Silent Brilliances
by tr96ey
Summary: Harry Potter was very different than your average child; he could paint, dance, play music, and remember everything he reads and sees. One thing he couldn't do is talk. IndependentHarry SmartHarry HandicapHarry Dark-ishHarry GreyHarry Sane-erVoldemort ManipulativeDumbledore(HermioneWeasleyDumbledor bashing kind of) Warnings for Slash, M/M, Gay ect. Don't like it don't read it
1. Chapter 1

Silent Brilliances

 **I Do Not Own Harry Potter or there would have been a lot more Slash and the movies would have been rated R.**

 **There will be mentions and depictions of past child abuses as well as Male on Male homosexual relationships later in the story witch may be a ways away**

 **Warning this is my first Fanfic and I did it without a beta So sorry for any wrong words or grammar problems. See AN at the bottom.**

Harry James Potter was a very different boy than your average child. Harry was not cared for by his guardians like other children, he was not seen as a child that needs to be taken care of and raised to be a good person in the world and find a place in it. Harry was not brought up loved and cherished, but scorn and treated with obvious hate and dislike; he was an 'unwanted freak', as his relatives called him. He was raised to believe he was not something of importance, and his life was a burden on the people around him. That impossibly long and unreasonable chore lists and unobtainable work expectations, from his Aunt Petunia, were acceptable prices for his living cost. That starvation and beatings, from his Uncle Vernon, were the punishments he deserved for being the cause of problems that he had nothing to do with. Harry was raised to believe no matter what he did he would never be anything in this world because he was different.

However no matter what his relatives tried to raise him to believe he knew they were wrong, he knew he wasn't useless or worthless. Just like he knew he was better than his fat, spoiled, thick headed pig of a cousin, Dudley. And that no matter what they wanted everyone to believe, he knew his aunt and uncle were neither respectable nor important people. His aunt was a stay at home wife with the face and body of a starved horse, desperate for the approval and jealousy of the neighbors she spied on through her curtains and fence for information that was none of her business. She thought that her son, Dudley, no matter what teachers, doctors or neighbors said was a perfect flawless angel that deserved the worlds love and obedience. Harry's uncle Vernon was a heavily obese working class man with a mustache than made him resemble a walrus, who believed he was an important figure far above his place in society, and that his son, the spitting image of himself, would always be better than his unwanted freak nephew. One thing that Harry did believe from his relatives was that he wasn't normal, but that didn't have to be a bad thing, he was different he only needed to look in a mirror to know that.

He was small for his age, inches shorter than all the other boys, and even some girls, his age. He was both a very plain child you could easily over look and a beautiful boy; with shiny messy black hair that came down just too his shoulders that curled up and spiked out as if he had just been in a strong wind and piercing emerald green eyes. He had a petite build, with soft smooth skin and soft featchers. It wasn't just his looks however, that made Harry so unique, and different. He was what many called a prodigy of the arts, and a genius; he could draw and paint masterpieces that were highly valued in his life and would be even more so in his death, he could play music that could rival the best classical musicians, and could dance with the grace a prima ballerina. He could remember nearly everything he's read, seen and heard in his life.

What was probably most unique about Harry was that, in all eleven years of his life, he has never been able to utter a single word.

* * *

Harry looked down at the strange letter, delivered by an owl to make things weirder, with a frown. He had been on his way out the door to the library and had picked up the mail and had seen it on top. He just slipped it into his satchel before giving the rest to his uncle, not even bothering to look at the walrus like man, just throwing the mail on the table in front of him and walking out the door. Only once outside on the front step did he read the strange letter written on parchment and seen an owl on the fence watching him. He walked to the library after reading the letter, several times, deep in thought about what he just read, that he was supposedly a 'wizard' and had been accepted to a _magical_ school.

At first when seeing a letter addressed to him, he first thought it was a notice from his current school, Harry didn't really have any friends at his school well not any that would send him letters. Beginning in school four years younger than the youngest student age group and unable to speak made him a bit isolated from the rest of his classmates. Harry was currently the youngest student in history to attend Faciendo Artes Academy, the most prestigious school of performing and visual arts, a given by its name. He had some older students who asked after him but they never wrote to him for no reason. He had gotten a note with a present or post card from a few of them but never just a letter out of the blue.

* * *

When Harry first started reception school at four years old he had not been placed in a class right away and had instead been given a one on one teacher who had experience with disabled children, normally deaf, for his lack of speech. Harry's teacher, Mr. Arnold, had been shocked at his progress when teaching him sign language, when after only two weeks of lessons Harry had been able to tell him he had never had any lessons or practices before coming to school. The thought that he had no way of communicating before the age of 4 was over shadowed by the speed Harry had shown for learning; he had memorized the alphabet both in sign language and written form, on his first day and it had only taken him a little over three weeks for him to learn to read, he had taught himself how to by both memorizing the sounds of the letters of the alphabet and putting them together as well as remembering the words of the story books that Mr. Arnold and the librarian, would read aloud. When the end of his first month of school came Harry had developed a love of reading and had become a regular occupant of the school's library, when it was discovered Harry was actually reading the books and not only looking at the pictures it had been assumed that Harry already knew how to read before coming to school, an Harry had never corrected them. After two months harry was placed in a regular class with other students, Mr. Arnold had still been around ,primarily for Harry, and would help other student and act as an occasional translator.

It was during their first (Harrys first with them) art lesson did a new talent make itself known, the teacher Ms. Eddie told them they would be coloring a pitcher of an animal using the color blue. Most of the other kids started coloring obtuse and disproportioned blue dogs, cats, bunnies and other animals, as she was making her way around and looking at the pieces of art the children were making she stopped when she seen what Harry was drawing. In the center of the paper was a beautifully drawn blue jay, the bird was standing on a branch and looked to be drawn in colored pencil and outlined in certain places with black crayon, the tail feathers and the wing tips had been colored in a brighter blue and black with white tips. The bird had its head cocked curiously to the side and was looking at a small flower at the end of the branch it was perched on, it had been shaded to show light coming from the left and the blue jay looked like it was about ready to flap its wings and fly of the paper, in other words it definitely didn't look like the work of a 4 year old. When she asked Harry how he had made it he signed. 'I just made it look like the bird I seen in the garden.'

By the end of first term Harry had been bumped ahead to year two in his level of learning, though do to Harrys lack of interaction with his classmates, even after coming into the classroom he was not moved out of his reception room to a higher year room and was just given year two material. Half way into second term it had become apparent that Harry didn't really want to interact with his year mates, normally drawing or reading by himself in the class or library during free time and recess and was still advancing.

* * *

When Harry had come back to school at age 5 he had been placed in the year three class instead of the year one class with the rest of his age group, with the hope that he would have better luck socializing with children closer to his own intellect. Many of his new 'year mates' were confuse at seeing a 5 year old in their class, especially do to his small stature, some of them recognized him as the little kid that didn't talk and was always in the library. Harry for the most part still kept to himself, but didn't completely isolate himself like he had before do to the fact that his new class mates could communicate with him better than the kids in his age group could. Harry was given a small white board and marker that he used as his primary means of communication, his new teacher had also shown the kids in his class some basic sign language; the man had grown up with a deaf cousin and had learned as a child. Some of the kids would talk to him every so often about classwork or just to ask a class related (have you finished tonight's reading?) or meaningless (do you think we can have monkeys for pets?) question, but he was mostly left on his own.

It was this year Harry had shown another talent, in music class the children were shown a variety of instruments they could chose to practice on. The teacher showed the kids a shelf were easy, cheap and sturdy instruments were, like the recorder, one girl had gone over to the piano in the corner and started playing explaining she had had lessons. Harry had looked over the instruments and had wondered over to the other part of the room and found a violin and placed it under his chin and brought the bow along it like he had seen in a pitcher book. The first sound that came out was sharp and jagged, but after a few more seconds of making a sound akin to a dying cat, he started to adjust his fingers and the pressure on the bow the sound coming out of it started to become softer and smoother, he closed his eyes and just pulled back and forth playing a deep but light nameless melody for a few seconds and learning were which notes were where.

When he opened his eyes most of the class was looking at him and the teacher was staring at him with a slightly shocked and interested look, she seem to snap out of it and pull herself together and had the class sit in a circle as she tried to explain how to read sheet music. At the end of class she allowed them to try and play the song on the board, "Marry Had A Little Lamb", the room was filled with off key music and high pitch whistling sounds. Amidst the sounds she could still hear that Harry and April, the girl on the piano, were playing the song. April played without even looking at the keys or the board; she looked slightly bored as if she had done this a thousand times before, that very well may have been the case. Harry on the other hand played the song while focusing on the white board, hitting every note perfectly with a small smile on his face. When class was done and they were dismissed for recess with their normal teacher she told them they could go or stay and practice, Harry had been one of the few that stayed most of the others running out immediately. Harry was in the middle of playing "Marry Had A Little Lamb" again, this time with his eyes closed when the teacher came over to him.

"Harry have you had lessons on the violin before now?' she asked. When Harry's response was a shake of his head in the negative she didn't know if she should be shocked or not. "If you wish you could come here during recess or even after schools some days to practice. I believe you have a real talent for it." Harry's green eyes brightened at the offer and shook his head yes with a smile. It only took a few weeks before Harry was playing high level classical pieces, playing music became one more thing Harry Potter could be found doing the others still being drawing or reading.

* * *

Harry continued on with his new class through year three and then into most of year four. It was no secret that Harry was one of the smartest and most gifted students in the school. His art work and music had gotten many of the teachers attention, and he had been to see the principal several times to check and see how he was doing and discuss future schooling, several of his paintings had been entered into a nationwide school art competition and had won, earning the school a lot of recognition and praise. This had also gained Harry the attention of several secondary schools with well-known art programs.

It was just before Easter holidays when his teacher learned just how fast Harry was advancing in school. During their math lesson when his year four teacher was walking around the class helping people and checking progress when she started heading to the back corner of the room where Harry sat. He had already handed in his assignment, this was nothing new, and was now reading a book and writing in a note book, again nothing out of the ordinary, however when she seen the book she became curious. When she asked what it was she was surprised to see it was a year six mathematics work book from the library and he was copying and solving the problems into the notebook. When she looked in the notebook she was shocked to see he was almost done with the book, when she asked why he was doing it and how he understood it. His reasons had been that he had been reading things like school books in the library along with story books basically his entire time at school and that it just wasn't that hard to understand.

After discussing it with him more and informing the principal of this development they had him take a few placement tests to get a better idea of where he was actually at. The tests started at a year three level of all subjects taut and progressively got harder. The results had been very shocking to his teacher and principal. Harry Potter had answered questions correctly into the high year 7 portion of the test in math, english, and history, he answered into year 5 of science. Learning that a 6 going on 7 year old student had self-studied himself just little over two years ahead for a second time was more than a little surprising along with the fact that the school was running out of things for him to learn.

He had not shown the same advancing skills he had in reception. He never answered questions unless called on directly, and whenever asked about class and school he would normally respond 'Good but, boring.' Granted a student reading and writing in complete sentences whereas the rest of the class was still learning the alphabet was much more noticeable than an, already well-known gifted student that preferred to read than interact with other students.

A counselor at the school had given Harry a different test and had come to the conclusion he was one of the few people to have an eidetic or photographic memory. Of cores now his description of classes being "boring" seemed to have a different meaning than just the typical child not having fun at school. Harry was bored because he knew what was being taught already and was not being challenged or taught anything new, he did so without complaint and just looked for his own means of entertaining/educating himself.

Harry had spent his last term at his primary school bringing his science knowledge up to par with his other subjects to round out his education, and looking into what secondary school he would apply to. It was Harry's music teacher; he had never stopped with the lessons and had even moved on to other instruments, that had given Harry the suggestion of his future secondary school, Faciendo Artes Academy.

The principal himself had taken the time to help him with his enrolment and scholarship papers and had even driven Harry into London to take the entrance exam and for him to do the schools mandatory audition. The school was most known for its studies of the performing and visual arts. The school had alumni that had went on to become everything from actors, dancers, and musicians to architects, artists, and authors. Many names in Hollywood, Broadway, and Bollywood had ben students of Faciendo Artes, gaining it a reputation as a prime starting point for anyone that wanted to get into show business.

* * *

By September 1st of 1987 Harry James Potter at 7 years old had become the youngest student to attend Faciendo Artes Academy. Harry had not only gotten in on and academic scholarship but had also managed to get a music scholarship as well, the school had had many musical prodigies as students in the past as well as a few people who could be called academic geniuses, but Harry had come in as both and the school had been thrilled. Harry himself had been happy that he was able to get away from his relatives for 10 and a half months out of the year.

Harrys four years at Faciendo Artes had been better than anything he could have had back at number four Privet Drive. He had gotten a bit of grief for being 4 years younger than the youngest age group in the school, and he had a few incidences that had him considering leaving but nothing that lasted more than a few days at most.

He had maintained his academic record of 'being the top in his classes' for his entire deration at the school. His academic scholarship had required him to stay as one of the top three students in his year, his music scholarship only required him to stay in the top 30% of his year academically. For coming in first in his year his 25 pound a week stipend had gone to 30 the next term and remained that as he continued to stay in the top spot, this was added to the 10 pound a week stipend he got for his music scholarship giving him a good chunk of savings.

He had even found a new passion while attending Faciendo, as a physical education class Harry had chosen ballet and found he loved it, unlike his art and musical talents Harry found he had to put much more time and effort into dance. When it came to dancing it wasn't enough for him to just memorize the steps and moves, he had to work and practice making his body flow with grace and poise, that was what he liked most about dance; there was always a way to keep striving for more. With his music and art he was expected to practice and work hard at them as well by the school and he did, but not to the extent dance required of him. With music he practiced every day when attending school on his violin (a parting gift from his music teacher) primarily and would practice whatever other instruments he started learning in his free time, more moderately.

With art on the other hand he had never really had to think or practice at it, be it sketching, drawing, or painting he would normally just looked at, or even think about, what he wanted to create and he would let his hands move and he would make it come to life on the page or canvas, he could never quite explain it. Sometimes his mind would just drift while he was painting and he never really knew why or how he would create some of his art pieces, they were however always beautiful.

There had been some of strange and mythical creatures in various locations; like unicorns in a dark and menacing forest, strange looking yellow-eyed mermaids, with grey skin and wild green hair, underwater, and dragons that looked to be on a ranch or farm of sorts. There had also been a few paintings of places he had never seen like a small snow covered village with candles hanging in the trees, and a beautiful black lake that seemed to be surrounded by a forests.

One of the strangest occurrences was when he would paint people he had never seen before. He had made pictures and paintings of random and generic people all the time, but the people he painted when he would 'drift off' always seemed to be somehow real like they did or had existed , one particular painting of a women with green eyes and bright red hair had always seems especially familiar to him.

* * *

Now sitting in the far corner on the second story of the public library a nearly eleven year old Harry sat looking at the parchment letter reading it once more.

 _ **HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY**_

 _ **Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore**_

 _ **(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,**_

 _ **Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)**_

 _ **Dear Mr Potter, We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July. Yours sincerely,**_

 _ **Minerva McGonagall Deputy Headmistress**_

Harry set down the letter and whent over his options and what he would do before deciding he didn't have enough information to make a good decision so took a pen from his bag and a piece of note book paper and wrote out a response.

After quickly writing down his letter he opened the window next to the table he was sitting at making sure there was nobody around and attached it to the owls leg (it seemed to have followed him) and watched it fly off.

As the bird became a speck in the sky Harry looked down and started to think.

' _Magic hum, well at least I have a proper name for it now._ ' Harry thought

He flexed his fingers and above his hand a small amount of mists started to form and condense into little floating globs of water and froze into ice that seemed to keep swimming in the air making soft crackling sounds, like liquid glass.

* * *

 **AN: Hay Guys this is my very first Fic and I've been wanting to make one of these forever now and I gest could not get this story out of my head I have so much stuff I have wanted to write and get out of my head but unfortunately having great story ideas and getting them out of your head and onto a computer is a lot easier said than done. This story will be VERY slow going as I don't normally have access to a computer and internet, but I relly wanted to get some of my ideas out of my head SOOOOO hears the first chapter.**

 **I know this chapter seems rushed but I just wanted to get like a quick summery of what's already happened in Harry's life up to the point of the letter I do plan to go into his passed in greater detail in later chapters**

 **Also sorry, I just figure it out how to edited this yesterday but I dident know how to replace it. So now everything should be easyer to read now. Especially the "Harley" James Potter thing I feelt like kicking myself for not catching that**


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

 **I Do Not Own Harry Potter or there would have been a lot more Slash and the movies would have been rated R.**

 **There will be mentions a depictions of past child abuses as well as Male on Male homosexual relationships later in the story which may be a ways away (you have been warned...again) and So sorry if there are an word or spelling mistakes**

 _'Thought'_

"Speech"

Harry walked along the road back to his aunt's house; he never called it home, with irritation and a bit of dread. He had only been back at their house for three days now and he was already miserable and more than a little pissed off.

His school had an, overnight summer dance school in London away from the academy itself, which was located a short ways outside of Harlow; it was even open as a day school program to those who did not attend Faciendo. Harry had to dip into his savings a bit to pay for it as his scholarships didn't cover summer programs of the school. He had also had to fake his aunt's signature on the programs permission slip, he was pretty sure that they would have signed it if they knew it would keep him away and they didn't have to pay but he wasn't willing to risk it.

He had signed up for it in an attempt to get away from his relatives for the summer for a second year in a row. The previous summer Harry won a raffle at a school Christmase fundraiser banquet and gotten to choose one of the donated prizes up for bid in the silent auction, he had chosen a summer of lessons at the Bolshoi Ballet School in Russia. It had even covered traveling expenses and passport fees.

* * *

The program Harry had signed up for had been going good. One of his favorite teachers, Ms. Setpanova, was the director of the program and had even drove Harry from Faciendo Academy to the dance studio in London that the school was held in.

She was one of the schools two ballet teachers and was a former prima ballerina of the Bolshoi Ballet, in fact the prize Harry had chosen at the school banquet had been offered as a favor she had asked of the director, an old friend of hers. She was also the adult chaperone that would accompany Harry, or any other student that won the raffle and picked that prize to, Russia; if an adult had won it would have been free tickets to the Ballet and a weeklong vacation to Russia.

Harry had been at the summer school for a month when a pipe in the wall had burst near the rooms above the studio that acted as the overnight students' dorm rooms. The damage had been minimal but would need a few days to repair. The school would have to be closed for the construction time and the overnight students would have to be temporarily relocated. Most of the other students that were staying in the school overnight ether lived in or had family that lived in or near London to stay with, the rest of the older students had gotten their families to make reservations for them to stay in a hotel. Harry being too young for the school to let go to a hotel had ended up having to go back to the Dursley's. Ms. Setpanova had drove him back to Privet Drive in the evening and even offered to come get him in three days but he declined, he was more than capable of finding his own way back to the school. His aunt had been very shocked to see him; he had sent a fax saying he would not be coming back for the summer.

Ms. Setpanova had walked him to the door and explained that he would only be there for a few days. His aunt had plastered on a fake smile and thanked her for bringing Harry all the way there, but Harry could very easily see the anger in her eyes at having him back as well as the jealousy in her voice when talking to his teacher. Harry knew why that was as well; Nina Setpanova was a beautiful woman, she could easily pass for being Petunias age or possibly even younger, even though she was closing in on 50. She had shiny golden blond hair, dark blue eyes and even without make up on, her face still had no wrinkles or lines, indicating she was not a very expressive person; time had been very kind to her. She seemed to radiate natural beauty unlike Petunia who would spend hours plastering on makeup that she claimed she didn't ware and forced her face into fake smiles and still looked vaguely like a post op transsexual.

Ms. Setpanova only gave a nod to his aunts' thanks with a neutral expression before it softened as she turned to Harry and once more told him to call her, or well have someone call her, if he did end up needing a ride before walking back to her car and leaving.

Harry had managed to not see his relatives for nearly two years before then and still nothing had changed, save for Dudley and Vernon getting even fatter, within five minutes of him being dropped off they had started after him.

They had made him make dinner for them and even given him a chore list for the next day before trying to lock him in his room. He made dinner for them as well as himself, ignoring the glare from his aunt and the blustering shouts from his uncle. They had learned shortly after Harry started school that they couldn't physically harm him, not anymore. They also learned they couldn't lock him in his room the first night Harry was back, he could very easily unlock all five of the locks on the outside of his door, when he had needed to use the loo and had walked out of his room and passed his very confused and slightly horrified aunt in the hallway. As for the chore list, he completely ignored it only leaving a note for his relatives informing them he would be spending his days there "Out looking around."

He woke up early, at 5:00 AM, the day after being dropped off before anyone else and left the note before heading to the local park to sit and sketch for a few hours before heading to the public library once it opened and read for the rest of the day until it closed. He had gotten himself some sandwiches for dinner from a grocery store and walked around the town for a few hours before heading back to number four at around 10:00 PM. The day after he had slept in a bit later and waited until the library would be open before going.

The first day his aunt had glowered at him and shrieked about not doing his chores, he had only ignored her and when to his room and straight to bed. Before he could go to sleep his uncle Vernon had burst in and started yelling about him being 'Ungrateful to them.' and 'Not showing the proper respect for his and his wife's generosity'.

Harry just watched sitting up in bed with half lidded eyes and a bored expression as his uncle turned an admittedly pretty shade of purple but it was deffiantly unhealthy. When his uncle had made the threat of not letting him go back to school Harry only arched an unimpressed eyebrow at the poor threat, like they could ever stop him from going back, or would even want to stop him from doing something that would get him out of their home. At that his uncle made like he was about to hit him, but then roughly grab him by the shoulder and shoved him back down onto the bed and screamed at him to go to sleep.

The second night they had tried locking him out of the house, but locks had long sense stopped being an obstacle for him. When he walked in Dudley had been in the entrance hall, he had made a face that seemed like a cross between pout and constipation before screaming to tell his parents 'The freak got in again.'

He then started to stalk towards him but Harry had been ready to deal with his cousin, he took out a chocolate bar he had in his messenger bag and let Dudley see what it was before tossing it over the fat boys head and him immediately chasing after it. Harry had already started up the stairs but had gotten a glimpse of his cousin barreling into his mother to get to the chocolate that had sailed into the sitting room through the door she had open to see what her son had been screaming about.

Once he was in his room Harry heard down stairs Dudley complaining/screaming about both, the fact that he was back again and the fact that he was going to leave soon. Apparently Dudley had pitched a fit about Harry getting to go to Faciendo and that he wanted to go there as well, it would be more accurate to say he was upset Harry had gotten something he didn't have.

His aunt and uncle had tried to get him into the school but Dudley's song and dance routine that he had done for the addition hadn't come close to the schools standards, he probably would have gotten a better reaction if he said it was a comedy act. A little pig looking boy singing 'My Girl' off key wearing a derby hat and suit while dancing around sporadically had been very funny to watch, mostly when Dudley got to his big finish and ended up falling on his face. After that performence, Dudley's chances of getting into the school had died, the Dursleys didn't have nearly enough money to buy their way into the school, like some of the schools wealthier students, with its high tuition.

Most families that couldn't afford the school where normally able to find one of the many scholarships the school had, to help lower tuition to something they could manage, but the student in question had to have some talent or even at the very least potential, something Dudley did not show. His aunt and uncle had even gone so far as to try and get the school to give one of Harry's scholarships to Dudley, seeing as both of them were for a full-ride, something that could cover two students. The school had promptly refused not willing to give Dudley the reward for Harry's achievements and even more unwilling to undermine the standards of their school.

Harry was actually the first student in 48 years to get a full-ride music scholarship instead of only financial aid and was the only the second student get in on a full-ride academic scholarship. Anyone that was capable of getting in with the latter were normally capable of getting into basically any boarding school in Great Britain, however getting and **keeping** the academic scholarship(Full-ride) in Faciendo was much harder than any other school. Do to the fact that the person must place as one of the top 3 students in their year and the fact that many of the classes were graded on performance, like in drama or dance, so even if a student could stay on top academically they could lose one of the top 3 places if their year mates are adequate in their academics and better in their performance. Harry was able to keep it because he not only had the brain power to keep at the front of the class but the talent as well.

* * *

Now Harry stood outside of his relatives' house once again. He knew that he would be heading back to his summer school in the morning; he only had to put up with them for about 8 more hours, the majority of the time they should be asleep.

It was now 10:00PM and Dudley should be going to bed soon do to all his favorite programs now being over for the day, he had deliberately stayed out every day until this time to avoid his cousin. His aunt and uncle couldn't relly hurt him physically because once he got back to the summer school his teacher might notice any bruises or marks or even more noticeable, especially for a dancer, a limp. But Dudley could still attack him and his aunt and uncle wouldn't do a thing and could just pass it off as boys-being-boys.

Harry had made sure to keep far away from him, especially now that Dudley was about to start at Smeltings, Vernon's old alma mater, and had gotten that stupid stick. The first night he was back Dudley kept swinging and poking it at him. His cousin was still pouting at not getting in to Faciendo and Harry could not be more relieved at that fact.

Harry opened the door and walked in and seen his aunt standing there with her arms folded scowling at him in that way that made her look like she had something nasty under her nose.

"When are you going to be leaving?" She demanded in that shrill voice he had been so glad to be away from.

He took out a note pad and pencil from the front pouch of his bag and wrote '5am' in the middle and showed her.

"Why did you even have to come back tonight at all?" She sniffed disdainfully and walked back into the sitting room. He rolled his eyes at her response.

 _'Well fuck you too.'_ He thought as he went up the stairs to his room.

He could already hear Vernon snoring in the master bedroom and was slightly thankful he wouldn't have to deal with him at least.

He closed the door to his room and sat down on the bed, it looked like they had started using it as Dudley's second bedroom again. All of his things were kept at the school, none of his possessions were in the room; in fact all he had brought from the school was his messenger bag filled with three changes of close, a sketch book, a pencil and a pad of paper.

The room was currently littered with broken toys and furniture; the bed was uneven, the desk leg was twisted and the wardrobes cabinet door was hanging on a broken hinge. His aunt had at least kept it clean and free of dust.

* * *

Harry had moved into the room from the cupboard under the stairs when he was 4 and just moved into the class room with the rest of his age group. His teacher Mr. Arnold had notice that Harry seemed to shy away from the other students and had wanted to come to the house to speak with his aunt and uncle about him and see what he was like at home. His aunt was very surprised when he came home with Mr. Arnold with him and she had immediately apologized for whatever it is he must have done and assured him that he would be punished for it.

When the man told her the he wasn't there because Harry was causing problems and was only there to make sure nothing was causing Harry problems she had looked shocked and afraid. Harry remembered his aunt had looked panicked when he had said that. It had been this incident that confirmed Harrys belief that he didn't deserve to be treated the way his relatives treated him, if what they were doing wasn't wrong then his aunt would not have made a face that looked like she had just been told a lion had been seen down the street when a teacher was asking about his home life.

After Mr. Arnold left the house, with the promise to keep a close watch on him, his aunt had dragged him up stairs and told him that he would be moving into Dudley's second bedroom much to his cousins' displeasure. When his uncle came home from work and had been told what had happened and why Harry was now living up stairs he had beaten Harry across the back and legs with his belt and told him not to cause any more problems and gain more attention from the school. He had not been allowed to eat that night.

The next time Mr. Arnold had shown an interest in Harry's home life it had been with suspicion. Harry had been beaten for not finishing his chores within the impossible time limit his aunt had set, and as a result had a small but noticeable limp. When he had been asked about it Harry signed 'I got hurt doing chores'

After Mr. Arnold called his relatives about it, and unknown to them; told the principal, Harry noticed they had, well not eased up, but stopped hurting him to the point it affected his movement. After the call he had been beaten across his back again. He also noticed his uncle also stopped hitting him were bruises could easily be seen like his lower arms and legs and started to beat and hit him in places that were easily covered up by clothing.

Harry had started to primarily wear short sleeve shirts that showd more skin, and started to show discomfort in the places he was hit the next day at school, even if they always stopped hurting by then. Mr. Arnold and his teacher Ms. Eddie had become very watchful of when Harry ended up hurt and Mr. Arnold had even started to make a record of what seemed to be the source of pain as well as the time he would see it. Ms. Eddie had called home a few times about the instances _,_ as she called them,to get information about what was happening with the family and asking them questions about his injuries. Petunia and Vernon had gone to the principal and complained after the second time Mr. Arnold came to the house to discuss Harry, they had claimed that he was harassing them and even hinted that they believed he had an inappropriate interest in their nephew.

The principal had met this accusation with skepticism and disbelief, Mr. Arnold had been a very good teacher, he hadn't been working there for many years and was relatively young, 25, but he had never had any complaints before. There had been an investigation about Mr. Arnolds, interests in Harry but nothing unseemly had come from it, but his suspicions of Harry's less than acceptable treatment had come to light as well. There had not been an investigation into the suspected abuse but people did know what the man had been worried about. Harry's aunt had tried to spread a rumor of Mr. Arnold being insane though the fact that after the investigation turned up nothing and he had not been dismissed from the school very few truly believed it. He was however, on Vernon's insistence, removed as Harry's teacher and hadn't come back to school the next year when Harry returned.

After that a lot of attention had been shifted onto his relatives and for once they had not liked being looked at and watched. Harry had not been struck as often after that, he would be grabbed and jerked around by his shoulder or hair but he wasn't beaten regularly during the school year.

* * *

Harry lay horizontally across his bed, his legs dangling off one end, his head hanging upside down off the other looking out the window wondering about what he was going to do about the magic school.

He knew he wasn't going to be able to deal with it until he got a reply from his letter, and that was if this wasn't some weird prank though he didn't think someone would train and owl simply for the sake of a prank, right?

' _What am I going to do if this is real?'_ He asked himself before rolling his eyes at his own question. Shaking his head as a means to clear it he came to a decision.

' _I'm just going to have to treat this like it's any other school that wants me to transfer there.'_

He had been contacted by several schools from varying countries over the years about transferring. Some even sent some of their schools merchandise like a hat or a sweatshirt.

He looked at the up side down view of the moon that was shining a dull light into his room. He pursed his lips and blew out a long breath and watched as a stream of fog sailed from his mouth and silently collided with the window and frosted it over as well as cooling the room a bit.

He smiled a little at the thought of what his aunt and uncle would do if he did something like that in front of them, then he grimaced at the thought and righted himself on the bed.

He looked back at the now frosted window and smiled again; thinking back about his power as well as his friend.

* * *

When Harry had first came to Faciendo many of the older students had wanted to meet him or rather see what he could do. It had been a well-known rumor that the school had been considering a 7 year old genius prodigy. Most of the older students had been impressed by him but acted indifferently towards him, treating him like any other lesser year.

Some of the kids in Harry's year however, felt that a little kid didn't belong there with them and had started teasing him in classes. He had been picked on by the other boys in his dorm for the first few weeks, being pushed around, tripped in the halls, and even locked in a closet several times. The school had been able to put a stop to it in class, Harry had a teacher that followed him to each class like Mr. Arnold use to, but it still went on in the dorms. When the bullying had escalated too Harry's school books being thrown out a window and his glasses being broken, the school decided that Harry should be moved some were else. The school did have private rooms but they were disgustingly expensive and Harry's scholarship, even with two, wouldn't be able to cover it. At the time one of the schools fifth year prefects, Cyrille Andrews, had an open bed in his room and had agreed to let Harry room with him.

The school normally had 7 to 8 students per dorm room and a communal washroom. The schools prefects got the option to stay in a room with a single roommate and a private bathroom to be shared between the two. The boy Cyrille roomed with before had had a death in the family and moved out of the country, and the replacement prefect the school appointed had opted to stay in the dorm, leaving him with an empty bed. Cyrille was 15 and had a good school record, never getting into trouble more than the occasional detention for late work. It had also sounded like a good idea having an older, more mature student looking after Harry.

Cyrille had been very nice to Harry, they didn't relly interact much at first only with him showing Harry quicker ways to class and on the very rare occasion helping him with homework. They had gotten more comfortable with each other after the first month of them rooming together. Cyrille had even ended up showing Harry how to play the guitar; Cyrille had originally come to the school with hopes of becoming a professional musician.

He acted a lot like a kind big brother and Harry had expressed this to the older boy. Cyrille confessed he had been a bit reluctant at having to watch after a 7 year old for the school year but had agreed to do it when he had heard about him getting tormented by the other first years in his dorm. He had a younger brother around Harry's age and had hated the thought of a kid being picked on by a group of boys four years older, with no other place to go. But to his delight sharing a room with Harry wasn't anything like he thought it would be, he didn't need constant babysitting or attention.

* * *

Cyrille had also taught Harry how to swim when he found out that he didn't know how and had a small hand in helping him discover his power, as he used to call it then. Faciendo had a very large indoor pool that was open to its students whenever it wasn't being used for clubs or classes. Harry had, surprisingly, no trouble at all learning how to swim; it was almost instinctual, right when his body had touched the water Harry had felt at home. Cyrille had only had to demonstrate how to move in the water for him to get the hang of it. He had later questioned Harry if he relly didn't know how to swim and had teased him saying; "You could have just asked if you wanted me to go with you."

Harry had started swimming at every opportunity he could. It felt so right to him; being submerged in water. He would sometimes just float around and drift away in his mind, whenever he did he could always feel something, some power, inside him flickering and moving, like a candle that was trying to stay lit in the wind. He would sometimes spend hours feeling the power and the water moving around him, the two always seemed so close and compatible. Harry had noticed that the power was always in him and active but it seemed to completely come to life when he was swimming, like it was sleeping when he wasn't in the water.

During one of his swims in first year he had been shocked by two things; the first was the feeling of another source of the weird power in the pool with him, the second had been the fact that he could somehow feel what was going on in the water around him. Before then whenever he would go swimming he would drift off in his head and enjoy feeling his power as he would swim around in a kind of daze, but he never collided with the walls of the pool or anyone else. Now however he was aware that he knew where everything and everyone in the water was, like sonar. He had looked over and found that the other power source had been a girl in his year, Sarah, however her power seemed to be dull, and as he tried to focus on her power with his "sonar" he started to compare it with his. Hers was significantly duller than his, it was like a fire about to go out, but it also seemed to have a strange shape compared to his, he wonder for a minute how many other people had power and if they did, did they each have their own unique shape like a fingerprint? After that day Harry had started to focus more on his "sonar" during his swims, he had also started to try and see if he could activate his power when he was out of the water.

It was easy to start focusing on his "sonar" now that he knew it was there and what it did. As he kept on using and focusing on it, the clearer the "image" became. Before he could only get a flat two dimensional overview of the water. He could tell where something was and get a vague idea of its shape but nothing else. After a year of practice he could almost see a three dimensional image of everything in the water, he couldn't make out color or patterns but he could identify if the person was a boy or a girl by the shape of their body.

Harry's process of trying to activate the power outside the water had gone painfully slower than anything he had tried to do in his life before, he could feel it an even get it to shift and move but it would never activate like it did when he was submerged. He had been trying for five months before he figured out the reason behind his lack of results was because he didn't have a reason for it to activate. He had made this discovery when he had been painting a pitcher for a project in his art class, the art piece had been of a calm forest with a river running through it. When he was painting the river he had started to think about the power, he could feel it, like always, just beneath his skin asleep and dormant, when he dipped his brush in the glass of water he had next him he felt his power flare up a bit. As he pulled the brush up he seen that the water in the glass came up with it. He had been so happy that he had figured it out that he didn't even care that he had ruined his paining and had to start again. He had started to practice making things happen with water after that.

* * *

Over the years he had kept himself busy playing with his power to see if he could do more with it. Once he had figured he needed an intention to activate his power it had gone easier than it had before, he also discovered that his power didn't need to fully activate for him to do things ,like move water. He had done some research on the topic of hydrokinesis and even found some training exercises, most of which did not help. He had just kept on shifting his power and willing the water to move. It had taken him three weeks to move a glass-fulls worth of water into the air. He had figured that he would get better over time with practice so he had started adding 'power practice' to his schedule of things to do; it had been behind dance, music, study time and his free reading, he may have thought his powers were cool but he had other priorities that heled more precedence. He had also made sure not to let anyone know about his ability, he knew this power was wicked cool but it was equally as freakish, as his relatives would say.

His "sonar" had also come a long way as well, it still worked best on a body of water but he could now feel where there was water within a certain distance from him(around10 meters some times more with humidity), be it a puddle of water or a living creature, plants included. It could also work to an extent in the fog or when it rained. In the fog or mist Harry could tell were mostly everything within it was, although he could only get a generic shape of whatever was in the fog. With rain it was a bit like someone was flipping the lights on and off rapidly, the image was a bit fragmented but not unrecognisabel he could still get a fairly good idea of what was around him in either weather condition. He had also felt small traces of power in a very few others as well, but none of them had a power as bright as his, most were only faint almost non-existent glows. There were only three people that stood out; the brightest belong to a girl in his class, Sarah Clark, the one who had first alerted him of his "sonar" ability. Her power had seemed like a dying fire where as the few others Harry had felt seemed more like a dead glow stick, one strange thing about hers was that it seemed to get slightly brighter whenever he felt it in the pool. The second and third brightest powers Harry knew of surprisingly belong to his aunt Petunia and Dudley, though his aunts power was brighter than Dudley's nether were very impressive compared to his.

Harry had learned he could not only move water as a liquid but also as a vapor as well, he could pull moister from the air around him and make it condense to a liquid. He could also do it in reverse, and vaporize water into mist. Changing the temperature of things was something he could do as well; he could bring liquids temperature down to the point it would frost over or even freeze it solid or heat water to the point of evaporating.

His power was most reactive to water but Harry had found that he could make it work on other things too. He had discovered this when he was 8 in his second year and one of his old dorm mates had locked him in a broom closet, again. He hadn't even been trying to do anything at all, he was just banging on the door hopeing someone would hear, and he had started to pull on the handle when he felt his power flare-up and the lock click open. This discovery had gained him more than a few private and unauthorized swims. However it took an incredible amount more of his power to do anything that wasn't based around water, manipulating water was like painting to him; it came naturally, it didn't take to much effort just concentration. Doing other things with it was like dance; he could do it but it took a lot more effort on his part. It had taken him the same amount of power to move his pillow, sheets and comforter and make his bed, that it had taken him to once freeze and then re-liquefy the entire Olympic sized swimming pool. He had learned to do various other things like changing the color of items, making things float (things other than water), even changing the shape of a few things. Over all Harry had found his new talents strange but fun, they had been a nice distraction from everything around him, and had also been a way to keep busy and prevent him from studying himself into the next year's curriculum again.

* * *

 _ **Hogwarts, Scotland**_

Minerva Mcgonagall, Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and transfiguration teacher, sat rereading the very elegantly written letter she had received, her lips pursed in a small frown.

 _Dear "Deputy Headmistress",_

 _I'm not sure if this is some elaborate prank or not, and if it is I have to say I'm impressed by the dedication shown by sending a trained owl to deliver a letter and wait for a reply. However if this is real and your school does exist it would probably be in your best interest to give a few more details than 'you have been accepted' and 'We await your owl'. Such as, where to get supplies, the location of the school, courses offered and PROOF THIS IS NOT A JOKE!. I will need this information if you do truly wish for me to attend your school._

 _, Harry James Potter._

 _P.S I will not be at the same location the owl delivered the first letter, so I may miss any reply you may send, I'm leaving it up to you and your "magic" to find were I'll be._

 **A/N: So I updated again and just because I updated one week later does not mean this is a schedule. I mean it! I have very sporadic use of a computer and internet. I have no schedule, and don't want to make a false promise about having one. I would also like to say thanks for the reviews and the faves and follows .**

 **As for Harry he is a water elemental, or has a water affinity whatever you want to call it. And this story follows the theory that muggelborns are the descendants of squibs, hence Dudley and Petunias "power". This chapter is just more catch up on what's been going on in his life before the letter and a little bit of what happened after he got home. I have some other stuff about his past that I wanted to talk about as well but I figured that this chapter had kind of run its course and I found a good stopping point so the next chapter will have a bit more of the catchup thing before getting into the more direct story.**

 **Gurgaraneth: Yes Harry will still have his Parselmouth ability.**


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

 **I Do Not Own Harry Potter or there would have been a lot more Slash and the movies would have been rated R.**

 **Nor do I own any songs or lyrics that may be used in this fanfiction be it in this one or future chapters, some of these songs will have come out after this story's time period, so don't be surprised if a song from the 2000's is referenced.**

 **There will be mentions a depictions of past child abuses as well as Male on Male homosexual relationships later in the story which may be a ways away (you have been warned...again)**

' _Thought'_

'Sign Language/Written '(Harry speech)

"Speech"

~Song

Minerva stocked her way through the corridors of Hogwarts coming up to the gargoyle statue that concealed the headmasters office. She stated the password before striding up the staircase and into the office.

"Ah, Minerva what a nice surprise, what brings you by this evening? Would you care for a lemon drop or some tea perhaps?" Albus Dumbledore asked, looking at her over half-moon spectacles and wearing bright blue and neon green robes.

"No. I would like an explanation for this" she said sharply, her Scottish accent more noticeable in her anger and dropping the letter on the desk in front of him.

"You said he would be protected and informed when we left him there with those… those muggles!" she snapped, glaring with narrowed eyes as he picked up the letter and started to scan its contents.

"Does that seem informed to you? Imagine thinking his Hogwarts letter some kind of prank." she seethed cooling down at bit and saying the last bit too herself. At the same time thinking how a certain set of red heads would do something like send a fake letter of admittance to an imaginary school.

The twinkle in the headmaster eye's dimed as he read the letter minutely before coming back at the end of the letter a bit. He still however wore a small frown.

"I would have thought his aunt would have explained about magic and Hogwarts to him. Her home being the safest place for him to grow up and have a normal childhood." He knew Petunia had never been close with her sister but she would no doubt agreed to care for her child. He had thought that there might have been a chance she might be distant, maybe even a bit resentful towards him but she would have at least taken care of her nephew. In fact if her family had been a bit harsh to him he would have been all but assured to come to Hogwarts.

But to his knowledge she had cared for the boy, Arabella had even said that they had gotten him into one of the top schools in the muggle world, surley they must care. But why had they not informed him about magic?

"Well it seems that someone will have to go and rectify this." he said ' _Harry Potter must return to the wizarding world, he is the only one who can stop Tom'_

"I'll send Hagrid immediately to-" "No." Minerva cut him off before continuing on herself.

"I'll go tomorrow, he said he wanted proof and Hagrid is not allowed to do magic. I don't think sending a nearly 11ft man for him in the middle of the night will be the best first impression of the magical world. I believe a muggleborn orientation packet will be needed."

"Ah yes," He reached into his desk and took out a small key. "I believe you will also need this for young Harrys vault so he can buy his supplies."

She took the offered key. "Yes, I have some paperwork to get done and then tomorrow I'll go deal with this... this injustice." She said turning to leave the office of the colorfully robed headmaster.

"Well I won't keep you and do tell me how it goes." He said offering a kind grandfatherly smile.

"Yes, fine." she said before exiting the room.

Muttering under her breath about 'horrible muggles' and 'imagining Hogwarts some sort of prank.'

* * *

Harry slowly opened his eyes and leaned up in his bed, yawning with a stretch, a large smile slowly breaking out on his face. Today was the day. He would be going back to his summer school but more importantly, he'd be getting away from the Dursley's.

He grabbed his glasses from the bed side table; they were a pair of black and silver horn rimmed glasses that he had been given after his dorm mates had broken his old pair during his first year at Faciendo. The mother of one of the boys had been outraged when the school told her what her son, had been part of, ganging up and bullying a little boy four years their junior. She had driven to the school from the families home in Harlow, to reprimand her son. She had also insisted on replacing Harrys glasses when she found out he didn't have a second pair. She had taken him into town to the ophthalmologist when he told her he didn't know his prescription, and had even picked out his new glasses.

He looked at the clock, it said it was a quarter passed five and he had told his aunt he would be leaving at 5AM.

He quickly got up and changed out of his pajamas and into his day clothes, consisting of black leggings, some old ratty trainers and a black and white long sleeve baseball t-shirt with his school logo on the bottom right corner, the logo was the schools name on a stream of sheet music that was coming out of a paint brush, in front of the drama masks of comedy and tragedy.

Whenever he would go shopping for clothes, rare as it was, he would often get flexible and easy to move in items he could wear for dance practice, he wasn't the only boy at his school that would wear leggings as casual day clothes. He also had a fairly large collection of shirts with his school logo on them. He liked them because he could buy them in the school itself and rather cheaply at that.

He stuffed his sleepwear back into his messenger bag and when down stairs.

In the kitchen he decided to have a quick breakfast of toast, a banana, and a glass of milk before heading out the front door. He had briefly entertained the idea of putting a laxative in the juice pitcher but decided against it.

Once outside he looked around at all the identical houses of Privet Drive. It was still dark out but you could see the sky becoming lighter in the distance.

As he started down the drive way he looked at parts of his aunts' garden and patches of the front lawn that were still dead. Before he had left the last time he was here, the summer between his second and third year, he had partially frozen the soil underneath parts of the lawn so the grass and plants would die.

He knew his aunt obsessed over her garden and his uncle took great pride in having the best yard in the neighborhood, so had taken great delight in taking it away from them. That summer he had chanced bring some of his books back to their house with him. Normally he left everything but his clothes in a hiding space underneath a bush near the library. His first day back his uncle had confiscated them and then that evening he and Dudley had burned them in the fire place, so Harry had decided to get back at his relatives. He had been a bit surprised when he first got back, to see that those patches of the lawn were still dead.

Harry had only just started on his way to the library; the day before he had the librarian help him place a call to have a taxi pick him up there at 6am, when he heard two people calling him.

"Harry?!"

"Harry? Harry dear is that you?"

He turned around and smiled when he sees it was Mrs. Kyrim and her 13 year old daughter, April. Harry had been in the same class with April when he had first got moved ahead in primary school. The mother and daughter where both wearing track suits and he assumed they have been out jogging.

* * *

Back when Harry had been bumped ahead in to year three Harry had started to help other students, mainly by pointing out misspelled words or looking over math problems and showing them were they when wrong or sometimes even just letting them copy the answers for homework. He had focused mainly on the kids that either lived near him or that had mothers who socialized around with his aunt. He had figured if he could be known to their children as someone smart and nice enough to help then, they might start to tell their parents about him and they would be less likely to believe the story's about him being a vandal and a delinquent that his aunt and uncle would try and spread about him.

It had worked pretty well and April Kyrim had been the best person to make it work. Not only was she nice to be around and not get upset when someone younger than her corrected and helped her, her mother was one of the women in the neighborhood that often attended his aunts tea parties. April was very chatty but a sweet girl, she had liked that Harry was in her class, 'Because he's so small and cute', had been her main reason behind this, and liked him even more when he started to help with school work. She had chatted animatedly, to her parents about her classes 'cute little friend', that her improved marks in class had been because of him. In truth she seemed to see Harry as something more akin to a class pet than a fellow student but she had loved having him in class and never did anything to discourage him, in fact she would often share some of her lunch with him.

When her mother had found out that Petunia Dursley's, trouble making, son of no good drunks' nephew, was in fact the same 'cute little friend' that helped her daughter with homework and didn't talk, she had no reservations about asking:

" _If your nephew is so troublesome and ill behaved, then why is he in a class, two years ahead and helping my daughter with her class work?"_

In the middle of one of his aunts' tea parties with the other ladies, and after the scandal last year with Mr. Arnold, Petunia had been hard pressed to answer that in a way that made Harry look bad, and _didn't_ make _her_ look worse.

It hadn't been long before his relatives realized that they couldn't just make up lies about him and have people take them as facts.

Unknown to Petunia, Harry had also slipped a few anonymous notes about her habit, of watching and eavesdropping on the neighbors, to some of the people in the neighborhood. Turns out, that little push was all it took to get people to be a bit more observant and for the residents of Privet Drive to start catching on to her invasive little endeavors.

* * *

"Oh Harry it is you," April chirped in delight with a smile on her face as she stopped in front of him panting lightly. She was a good few inches taller than him with dirty blond hair which was currently in a high ponytail and soft features.

"Hello dear," Mrs. Kyrim greeted as she came up next April, the women looked like an older version of her daughter except her hair was cut into a short bob and she had brown eyes, whereas April had inherited her father's green orbs.

"This is a nice surprise but what are you doing here? Your aunt said you had to go to summer classes because you were having trouble keeping up with the work."

Harry took on a confused expression, though internally he was brisling at the lie about his school performance.

Harry had never had any trouble with any aspect or subject of his educational performance. Because of his eidetic memory he had no problems in classes that were based around certain subjects, like math, science and history, where one only needed to remember facts. Mathematic formulas never changed, one plus one would always equal two, and neither did historical facts, Christopher Columbus set sail from Spain in 1492, or scientific facts, there were three stages of the water cycle; solid, liquid, gas, so all he ever really needed to do was read his class books or ones that where related to the subject. As for subjects such as English Language and Literature, Harry had always seemed to have a deeper understanding of the things he would read. After having spent so much of his, admittedly short, time in primary school reading in the library, Harry had gotten very good at finding hidden messages, almost knowing what the author felt as he wrote.

All in all Harry was very broad in his scholastic abilities. He already knew most, if not all, of the materials being taught in his Math and English classes and had in fact already taken several A-levels. The first in History and two in science, Biology and Chemistry, the rest in Foreign Languages in Chinese, French, German, Italian, Japanese, Latin, Russian and Spanish, he had not taken the classes, some of them not being taught at his school, he had chosen to self-study. But he had sat the exams when they were held, even having to go to an examination centre for a few of them and passed them all. Because he couldn't speak he focused mainly on how to read and write in each of the languages. He could only fluently understand French, German, Russian and Spanish because there had been a few students and teachers that were fluent in those languages and would speak to him in them so he could get a better grasp of it. The rest he wasn't entirely sure about as he didn't know anyone whom were well versed enough in the other languages to really test his fluency with.

In fact if he focused and put his mind to it, and focused purely on academic studies and stopped all pursuit of artistic subjects such as music and dance, subjects that required time and practice, he could probably have all of his A-levels done and be on his way to a university before the end of the upcoming school year.

So having learned that, of all the excuses about his absence for the summer that his aunt could have come up with, she had chosen to lie and take a shot at his academics he had been very irritated

He took out a note pad and a pen to wright out a response to the women.

'No. I signed up for a summer dance school that my academy offers in London. I'm only here because there was an accident in the building and some of us had to go home for a bit so they could repair. I'm keeping up in my school work just fine.' he wrote out.

"Oh that's good, I found it a bit hard to believe you were having trouble in school. Why you used to help my April here back in primary." "Mum!" The older women only chuckled at the slightly embarrassed out burst from her daughter.

Harry hoped that she would spread it around to the neighborhood. His aunt would be caught in her own idiotic lie.

"So dear will you be staying long" She asked the green eyed boy.

He shook his head and wrote out another answer. 'No, I'm actually on my way to be picked up now.'

"I see, well then I guess it's a good thing me and mum get up early to go for our runs then?" April asked with a smile before taking on a thoughtful expression and continuing. "Oh so I guess you didn't know that Mr. Arnold and Miss. Eddie got married last spring," at that Harry shook his head; he hadn't heard anything about Mr. Arnold in a few years.

"Yha he's now the vice principal of Stonewall High, though Ms. Eddie ...err I mean Mrs. Arnold is still teaching at the primary school." She explained. Mr. Arnold had been pretty well known at their primary school, being one of the two male teachers there.

Harry was glad to hear that Mr. Arnold was doing well. He had been a bit worried when he didn't come back when he went back to primary.

"Well it was good to see you again dear; we won't keep you any longer" Mrs. Kyrim said as she started to turn in the other direction April following. Harry turned and continued walking the short distance to the public library.

Once he had reached the outside of the grey stone building it was 5:30am and he had another half hour to wait, so he sat on the front step of the library to wait.

He looked down at the ground and seen a rock sitting next to him, he picked it up and held it in his hands. It was pretty big, able to take up the entirety of his palm; he placed his other hand over it and started to channel his pow...magic. It took a bit more energy to do anything that didn't have anything to do with liquid but this wasn't hard by any means, the rock started to shift, the rough edges became smooth and straitened and the entire shape started to alter.

The process only took about 5 seconds and when it was done the rock now resting in his palm was in the shape of a three dimensional 5 point star. It was still as heavy as it had previously been but it was smooth as marble now.

He picked up the newly formed star by one of its points and slowly turned it in his hand, as he did this he focused more on his magic and watched as the grey stars color started to lighten and shifted into a bright golden yellow.

Harry had started doing this when he was still trying to discover what other non-water based powers he had. He had started trying to change the shapes and colors of things made from different materials. He had found that aside from metal; changing the shape of pretty much anything was simple and easy. Once he had changed a paint brush into a miniature guitar, he had painted it and then given it to Cyrille as a birthday present.

As he sat waiting for his cab he entertained himself by changing the shape and color of the rock. It was still pretty early and aside for the few cars zooming by there was still practically no one out and around so he didn't have to worry about being seen.

It was a little passed 5:56am when his taxi drove up to the library. He stood up and placed the now blue raindrop shaped rock on the ground, it might be a cool find for someone about to check out a book, and approached the car.

"Where to lad?" the driver asked as Harry slid into the back seat. Harry took out a piece of paper with the address of the summer school and handed it to the man.

"Alright we should be there in about an hour or so. " the driver told him after looking at the address before backing out and driving off.

* * *

One hour and fifteen minutes later Harry found himself sitting on his bed in his summer dorm room with a wide smile. The room was small and there was still a light sent of paint in the air from the renovation but he was still so happy to be back. He had missed this place so much for the last few days, and there was something he had been dying to do.

He reached down under his bed and pulled up a black case, opening it to reveal his violin. Harry could play a variety of instruments; the cello, piano, guitar, saxophone, clarinet, trumpet, recorder, flute, oboe, French horn, harmonica, bongos, accordion and the harp. But he had held a lot of sentimental value for the violin.

It had been playing it that had gotten him into Faciendo Artes and subsequently, away from the Dursleys.

He looked out the window and raised the instrument to his chin he then brought the bow down along the strings and started to play one of the first classical pieces he had learned, "Bagatelle No. 25 in A Minor (Für Elise)"

Despite the fact that the composition that he was playing was over a century old, the music that flowed out and filled the room seemed like something new and fresh. The song was the same but it sounded like it was being played properly for the first time.

The bow flew across the strings as he continued on; trying to put more of the feeling of happiness he felt at being back and away from his relatives into the melody. As he continued to play, he could almost feel his joy seeping into the music around him and making an almost tangible presence of the beautiful feeling he had at that moment.

From the first time he played music Harry had loved the feeling of it, the way the sound would come out at his touch the way he could control the way the rhythm quickened or slowed. But most of all he had loved the feeling that music, his music, could instill in people. When he played he would try and convey feelings and emotions into the melody. Show people through the sound what he felt and then try and make them feel it as well.

He had progressively started to quicken the pace of the song and as he reached a crescendo; he came to a smooth stop. He then pulled the bow along the strings one last time to finish the song, much slower than he had before and brought the song to an end.

He breathed out a sigh and then jumped a bit when he heard clapping from behind him. When he turned around he seen Ms. Stepanova standing in his open door way. He had been so engrossed in his music he hadn't noticed her.

"Your talent on that instrument never fails to amaze me, no matter how many times I hear it" She stated with a minuscule smile on her face.

'Thank you, is anyone else here yet?' He signed back.

He had been the first one of the overnight students to arrive and the day students didn't come until the schools classes started at 8am.

"No I don't think anyone else will show up until the start of class."

'What will we be doing?'

"Today we are going to go over a full, on stage, run-through of the show and work out any flaws. Tomorrow we will have a dress rehearsal and Saturday we will have our performance." she informed him.

"You and the rest of the Faciendo students do not have much in the performance but I expect nothing less than all you can give, is that understood?" She asked sternly.

The summer program for the students who didn't attend the academy would practice and be taught to perform in two performances, one at the end of July and one at the end of August. The Faciendo students would be performing as well, but they only danced for the final closing routine of the end of July show and they didn't even participate in the end of August. For them the last month of the program was more for them to explore creatively with the help of the teachers and were even given the option of choreographing an original dance.

'Yes, I never give anything less than my best.' He reasoned with a look of seriousness that seemed too old for his face.

She gave an approving nod before her face softened form the strict no-nonsense expression she wore when speaking of her subject to one of curiosity looking at the paining on the easel in the corner.

"Oh, is this new?" She asked gesturing towards the painting. "I don't remember seeing this one."

'No, I finished it before we had to leave.' He informed her.

The painting its self was a beautiful depiction of four people together, two men and two women all somewhere in their late teens or early twenties. The first women was very pretty and had slightly curly long light reddish-blonde hair that fell to just below her shoulder blades, she had a full-figure and a kind warm smile on her lips as she looked at the other three with gentle honey color eyes. She wore what looked to be a yellow medieval time's peasants dress with a black corset and a crown made of yellow and red wild flowers. She was sitting down braiding blue wild flowers into the long strait black hair of the other women. The second woman was slender and had a thin beautiful face with high cheek bones; she wore a silver circlet around her forehead. Her shiny inky black hair was done in a high pony tail on the back of her head with a trail of blue flowers still being braided down it. She was wearing the same style of dress as the red-haired women only it was a deep blue with long bell sleeves and a white corset. She had a small amused smile and a glint in her intelligent dark brown eyes as she watched the man over the chest board they were playing on in front of her. The man had long silky black hair down to his shoulders and sharp aristocratic features with a sharp chin and nose. He wore a deep green tunic over his lean body that came down to his knees with silver fastenings down the collar and chest, he had a crown of dark purple flowers on his head and a silver chain around his neck that disappeared down his collar. He had a focused expression looking down on the chest board in front of him, a calculating gleam in his silver eyes and sly smirk on his lips. The last man was well-built with red hair that seemed to flare out around his head like a mane with stubble around his jaw; he had a broad friendly smile along with daring green eyes. He too wore a tunic, his bright crimson red and came down to his thighs, on his head he had a crown of white and pink flowers. He was kneeling down on one knee with a hand clapped on the other man's shoulder and with the other he was setting down some blue wild flowers for the red-haired women. The four of them were outside on the grass under a tree overlooking a lake and seemed to be enjoying the sunny cloudless day and company of friends, in the background on a cliff across the lake there looked to be a building under construction.

'I'm planning on offering it to The Gallery' Harry informed his teacher

The Pablo Gale Art Museum and Gallery, or more commonly known as "The Gallery" to the people of Faciendo Artes, was an art gallery that was owned by a very wealthy art aficionado, Cyrus Arvin, which was always on the lookout for new pieces for display or purchase. The Gallery would often look to Faciendo for new up and coming artists and Harry had their attention even before he had started at the academy.

Cyrus Arvin had been the one to judge the nationwide school art competition that Harry had won in primary school; his painting had been on display in The Gallery ever since and Harry had been on their unofficial 'Artist To Watch' list. There were a few other students at the academy that also had gotten works in as well but Harry currently had a record of eight pieces, not counting the one he made in primary, on display there.

"Oh well, I am no art expert so my opinion on this might not mean much, but I believe this is more than qualified to be on display there." She encouraged. "Will you allow this one to be printed, if they accept it and offer?'

'No, I only want to see if they will put it up.'

Depending on the artist (or owner in the case of a deceased artist) and The Gallery's curator an art piece like a painting or photograph might be allowed to be printed into multiple copies or if the artist chooses a limited number of copies and soled, with a cut going to the Gallery and an amount going to the artist. Out of the eight paintings Harry had submitted as a student, he only allowed one to be printed.

"Well, I am sure they will. I'll see you in class." she said as she turned to leave.

With a nod he turned back to the window and prepared to play another song.

* * *

Minerva strode down the street she remembered from ten years ago. Her face soured as she approached the same cookie cutter house of those awful muggles she had observed all those years ago and knocked on the door. Petunia Dursley, looking older and even more like a hoarse, opened the door.

"I am Professor Minerva McGonagall of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I am here to speak to Mr. Harry Potter." She said in a neutral but cold voice.

Petunias face immediately morphed into a scowl when she heard the witch's words.

"No! We agreed to put a stop to that freakishness when we were forced to take him in!" She ranted. "We couldn't stop him from cheating his way into that art school, but that is where he will stay. We will not have him going to yours and learn to be a bigger freak!" She had progressive gotten louder before slamming the door.

"Well, I never" Minerva huffed, scowling at the door. _'I told Albus they were the_ _worse_ _sort of muggles to leave him with, blood relatives or not. Merlin knows what the boy might be like because of them'_ She thought to herself.

"Excuse me?" She heard someone ask as she when to knock on the door again.

She turned around to see a green eyed girl with dirty blond hair watching her from the sidewalk, looking uncertain about talking to the strangely dressed women.

"Sorry to interrupt but I heard Mrs. Dursley umm… scream? Something about a school and you say something about Harry Potter. Are you looking for him?" The girl asked still looking a bit hesitant.

"Yes I am, I'm a teacher at a private school for the gifted and I had wanted to speak with him about attending. Are you a..friend of his?" She told the girl, keeping to the cover story for Hogwarts in the muggle world.

"Oh, I see." The girl said, her eyes lighting up as if she suddenly understood something. There had been a few school representatives that had come to speak to Harry back in primary school. "And sort of, we used to be classmates." She said in way of explaining the question asked.

"Are you the drama teacher then?" She asked looking at the witches robes and pointed hat, thinking it was some kind of costume. Not waiting for an answer she continued on.

"Well I'm sorry but he's not here. I ran into him on his way to be picked up this morning; he said he would be going away to a summer program and would only be in town for a short while" The girl told her.

That had been a surprise. She hadn't thought when his letter said he wouldn't be in the same place that the boy would be leaving town, and so soon.

"Do you happen to know where, Ms...?"

"April, and only that he said it was in London and it was a dance program sponsored by his school, Faciendo Artes Academy. They should know" The girl, now named April, told her.

"Well thank you for the information Ms. April." She thanked primly in the same way she would dismiss one of her students.

"You're welcome, good luck getting him to go to your school. "April said, throwing the last bit over her shoulder as she started to walk off.

Minerva was momentarily confused by that last statement but brushed it off before throwing a notice-me-not-charm over herself before turning on the spot and apparating to an alley she knew was near the Leaky Cauldron.

* * *

Once she landed she took out her wand and muttered a Point-Me spell. She had had to follow it for about two hours before coming to a stop outside a building that read "Madame Eden's Dance Studio."

She walked into the building and seen that she was now in a large bright reception room. It was empty of people except for a young lady behind a long counter who appeared to be reading a magazine. Minerva started to walk towards the women behind the counter who had looked up at the sound of her shoes on the hardwood floor.

"Can I help you?" The receptionist asked once she was standing in front of the counter.

"Yes, I'm here to speak to a student who should be attending here" She answered with a snap in her voice that was not needed. She had not liked the unexpected two hour walk but without knowing exactly where she was going she couldn't apparate to a closer walking distance.

"And what exactly is your relation to this student?" Came a Russian accent from the left.

Minerva turned to see a blonde woman in a black ballet dress with a stern expression walking down a flite of stairs to the left of the receptions desk. She was beautiful and walked with straight perfect posture, and had a stern yet graceful air about her.

"I'm here to offer a position at Hogwarts School for the Gifted." She told the other women, using the schools cover name.

"Oh, would this student happen to be Harry Potter." She asked her voice now sounding exasperated and a bit amused, like she was about to hear a joke that had yet to stop being funny for the hundredth time.

"Yes, can I take that to mean he is here?" She stated more than asked. At the same time wondering why she would assume it was Harry Potter. "Oh pardon me; I am Professor Minerva McGonagall deputy headmistress and ...Drama teacher of Hogwarts." She informed, using the subject that April had assumed she taught.

"I am Ms. Nina Setpanova, director of this program and ballet teacher of Faciendo Artes Academy. You are correct. But we are still having rehearsals for our performance right now; you will have to wait until they are over."

"I'm sorry but I believe this meeting takes a bit more precedence than your show."

At this Ms. Setpanova narrowed her eyes and spook in an even but very sharp voice.

"Ms. McGonagall, I understand that getting a high profile student into your school may constitute as an emergency to you. However at this time he is a student of mine both in this program and in my academy so I will not have his education and practice interrupted by something that I, as his teacher, deem can wait." She finished, her tone leaving no room for argument.

Minerva was a bit taken aback at the statement and tone but replied. "Very well, how long will it take do you know?" She knew the expression and tone the ballet teacher was using. She had used them herself when teaching, they meant 'Don't push this matter any further.'

"You will not have long to wait, Mr. Potter's group is currently rehearsing and only have a single routine, their group also has the least to work on. You may watch the rehearsal if you like." Ms. Setpanova informed her before turning smoothly on her heal and walking away further back into building wear the stage was, Minerva following.

* * *

Harry stood on the stage in his normal dance clothes, he still wore the same black leggings over a white leotard tank and black dance shoes. He stood in position with the rest of his class on stage, 10 girls and 7 boys. His hair was tied back in a ponytail; though instead of going down like normal hair it seemed to jet out in all directions, like some sort of strangely portioned multi point star on the back of his head.

 **(A/N: I have no idea how to choreograph a dance so sorry if this part come across strange and choppy, just know Harry is** **rely** **good.)**

They all started rehearsal as the music started. (1)

~Come away with me now to the sky

Up all the hills and the sea

Far beyond where memories lie

To a place where Im free to be me.

They all started out in unisons moving from first position onwards in to a few light steps, following the music.

~Oh Gather it now one and all

No matter what folly may do

Let the stars fill your soul, when the moon cradles all

So, to yourself be true!

At the start of the new lyrics they move into a spin and more complexes step sequence. And the boys of the group, excluding him, moved to the back and stayed in third position

~The blanket of snow is all gone

Each flower waits for the sun

And the breeze bring tears of the rain

Oh Its promise for everyone.

Harry stood center stage in between the group of girls, still the smallest on stage, and together they started to dance all together. Starting with a wave of their arms and moved into fourth position , moving together they all moved into three consecutive jeté leaps.

With a spin, Harry and a few of the girls came back and let a smaller group of the girls dance in a bit of a solo.

After a short bit the rest of the girls came to the front again and continued on with the routine as Harry stayed back with the boys. The girls danced until there was an instrumental break in the song, at this point the boys, excluding Harry, came back in.

~Deep in the forest we go

Creatures are all fast asleep

With a kiss and a wink we will waken our souls

And long is the safety we'll keep.

Each of the boys took one of the girl into a lift and lifted and placed a fake kiss, at the songs word "kiss", and continued to dance In a beautiful kind of fake waltz, as the other three girls danced around them, then they seemed to come back and Harry came to the front in another jeté.

~And then, then well dance with the night

Till the sun peeking sparkle at dawn

And away we will go

Like last winter's snow

Soon our work will be done.

He move into a graceful spin after landing form the jeté and then moved into a renverse' Jump, as he move in the air he seemed to almost float. As he landed he moved into two more jetés then when into a spin, with the same amount of nearly unnatural, gravity defying, grace.

With his small stature, bright green eyes, gravity defying leaps and hair he looked like a beautiful fairy dancing around on the stage.

The rest of the group came back at the word "done" and once again, with Harry front and center they started to move all together as one in beautiful synchronicity.

~Oh gather it now one and all

No matter what folly may do

Let the stars fill your soul, when the moon cradles all

So, to yourself be true.

They all came to the front into a straight line, they each moved slowly into either third, fourth, or fifth position, as the song came to a close.

~So, to yourself be true.

* * *

They all then heard Ms. Setpanovas voice call out from the seats. "Very good, all of you. I think all we need is a bit of fine tuning on a few of you but all in all, I think you are ready for your performance. I'm very glad to see you seem to have kept up your practice over our little unexpected break."

At this Harry beamed, he had not been able to get any dance practice in when he was away.

"Will Gabi, Ashley, and Olivia pleas stay in the auditorium, I'd like to speak with you about your performance. The rest of you have the rest of the day to your selves."

The first group of students started to move off the stage as the next group, one of the day schools classes, came on to practice with another one of the summer schools teachers.

Harry grabbed his bag and was about to head back to his room when he heard Ms. Setpanova calling him. "Harry, can you please come here?"

Harry started towards his teacher and seen that she was standing with another women, as he got closer his eyes widened slightly as he noticed that this other women had power, she had magic!

Minerva was quite shocked when she had seen the rehearsal. Up until that point she had not given any thought as to why Harry Potter would be in a dance program over the summer. Her only thought had been finding him. But now after seeing that performance, no matter how short, she had started to think about it more, he was very good. The boy had been something els, she wondered if it might have been accidental magic making him glide through the air.

She had been so lost in her thought she hadn't noticed that he was now standing in front of her, a small polite smile on his lips. She couldn't help notice how much he looked like his parents, with his mother's eyes and soft features and his father's hair color and complexion, if a bit more pale.

Harry watched the women for a few moments and felt her magic, it was brighter than anyone else's he had felt even brighter than his, he wondered if maybe it was because magic matured and grow with time. After a few moments she seemed to come back to herself and introduced herself.

"Hello Mr. Potter, I am Professor Minerva McGonagall, I understand you had some…doubts about our school. Well I am here to answer any questions you may have. Is there any place we may talk in private?" She directed the question to Ms. Setpanova.

"Yes, you may use my office for your meeting, Harry you know where it is."

With a nod he turned and started to lead the way.

* * *

A few minutes later the two were in the office with the door closed sitting across from one another in the chairs in front of the desk , one with cautious curiosity the other with slight disbelief.

' _Just treat this like any other school that wants me to transfer'_ Harry reminded himself.

Taking a note pad and pencil out of his bag, he started to write out his first questions.

'Do you have any proof of this magic? Or information about your school? The letter you sent wasn't that informative.'

Clearing her throat she began. "We are sorry about that Mr. Potter. Normally for muggleborn students we send a member of staff to inform them about Hogwarts and the wizarding world the year they turn eleven. We had assumed that you would already know about the wizarding world and Hogwarts." She stated. "Hogwarts is the most prestigious school in all of magical Britain. It is a seven year boarding school that teaches young witches and wizard, such as yourself, to control your magic. You will learn many things, like this for example, or _proof_. " She took out her wand and turned a small glass bird on the desk into a small living blue bird.

Now Harry was a bit more interested, he hadn't doubted the possibility of magic, he had been changing a rock into various shapes and colors only that morning. But believing and seeing proof were two very different things. He gaped at the bird now hopping around on the desk for a bit before focusing again and pulling his thoughts together.

Harry considered what she had told him before responding.

As he started writing his next question Professor McGonagall watched slightly confused as to why he was responding this way. "Are you feeling well?" she asked wondering perhaps if he was sick.

He looked at her, the small polite smile he wore wavering slightly, taken aback by the seemingly random question and nodded his head.

'What's a muggleborn? And why would you think I would know anything about magic?' He wrote out as his next question

Minerva, while a bit confused about his method of communicating, maybe it was just a strange habit, answered. "We assumed your aunt would have explained about magic and Hogwarts to you. And a muggleborn is a person like your mother, born to muggels; people who do not have magic."

That had gotten Harrys full attention. Now with a conclusive frown he asked.

'Why would my aunt have told me anything about this? And what do you mean people like my mother, born to people without magic?' He had a good idea of what the answer was but he still wanted to be sure.

She looked at the new questions on the paper a bit confused before a thought struck her and she felt her anger rising. Surely the boy knew about his parents, right? But then again she wouldn't put it passed those people to keep the boy ignorant of their death the way they had seem to have done with magic.

"Mr. Potter," She started slowly, "what do you know about your parents' death?"

Harry blinked at her in surprise for a moment. He clearly did not expect that question. His face took on a more guarded expression as he picked up the pencil wrote out an answer. 'I was told, what I'm now pretty sure was a lie, about them driving drunk and crashing, I assume this is wrong.'

Minerva could not believe what she had read, he knew nothing of the truth, her lips thinned in anger and she had to stop herself from letting out a shout of rage. Those horrible people had told him that his parents, two of her favorite students, had died drunk in a car crash, the audacity. She didn't know if she was angrier at Albus or those horrid people. She was brought out of her thoughts of rage when she felt a light tap on her arm; she looked to see Harry was holding out another note and had a curious and slightly conserved expression.

'Is everything alright?' NO, everything was not; he knew nothing of who he was in the wizarding world.

"Mr. Potter I think it would go easier if you spoke." She said briskly knowing she would have to tell him about the events of that night. Her patients had started to dwindle through the day and had all but left her after what she had just read and the novelty of passing her notes was becoming a bit tiresome.

However when she said this the curious expression seemed to melt off and was replaced with an almost completely blank expression. The sudden change of mood had been so rapid she had been momentarily shocked out of her anger.

Harry lifted the pencil back to the note pad and wrote out quickly in sharp movements.

'I can't.'

He had, for a moment, started to remember when Dudley, would play that game where he would twist his arm or his leg, or would just keep hitting him and told him he wouldn't stop unless he said uncle. Dudley had broken his arm once when he was 3 playing that stupid game because he couldn't speak.

Minerva had been slightly shocked at his written response. "Are you sick right now?" She asked

'No. I just can't speak.' Was the reply she got, it was strange she couldn't help thinking, did he just not like speaking or was this some sort of eccentricity.

" I don't understand what your aversion to speech is but I do believe you will want to talk for this." She told him, her forgotten irritation now resurfacing and coming through in her voice. She then realized that was not the right thing to say, nor the tone to say it in, and was very surprised at the glare he shot her. His mouth was pursed in a straight line and his brows were slightly furrowed. His bright green eyes were burning with anger as they looked up into her own eyes. Without breaking eye contact he brought the pencil back down and wrote out another note.

'I am _**incapable**_ of Speech. I have _**never**_ been able to speak. I _**can't**_ talk. I can't whisper, shout, or scream.'

He made sure to put emphasis on the fact that it was not a choice for him, that it wasn't a conscious decision. He started to think back to when he was young, before school, when his uncle used to show no restraint. He remembered being on the ground curled up as his uncle beat him with his belt, the buckle digging into him and the sticky feel of blood covering his back. The way he would open his mouth to try and apologize for whatever they were blaming him for, to beg for mercy, to scream out in pain, to yell for help. But no sound ever came out.

He had been diagnosed by doctors, but they could never find anything physically stopping him from speaking. Though not being a conscious decision on his part it was diagnosed as a psychological problem, only because no physical problem could be found.

The hand he was using to hold the pencil was now shaking and the other was clenched into a white knuckle fist. His breathing had become short and rapid and he still had the same glare though it seemed to have diminished in intensity a bit.

"Oh, I see. I'm sorry I was unaware, I thought you merely did not wish to speak." She apologized.

Minerva made a mental note not to comment on his inability to talk again. He seem to have inherited Lily's temper, tenfold. She had never seen that much anger on a child's face, it was very disconcerting. Although the fact that he was not capable of speech was very curious and a little worrying, how could he cast spells if he couldn't speak. Wordless casting wasn't taught until sixth year and even then it was considerably advanced.

Harry closed his eyes and focused on getting his breathing under control. After a few deep slow breaths he seemed to relax, his face softened and he opened his eyes with a small dim smile on his lips, the anger from the moment before gone.

He put the pencil back to the note pad. 'You were saying something about my parents?' He wrote out obviously wanting to move on.

Seeing the shift in topic and knowing what she would have to tell him Minerva cleared her throat and when into the story leading up to that night. She told him about the war they were in, about his parents taking up the fight and how they had to go into hiding. She reluctantly told him about how someone they all thought was a friend ended up being a trader, and how they had sold his parents and he out to the Dark Loard. Then finally about how his parents were attacked and how he had been the only survivor and had been credited with vanquishing 'He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.'

Harry sat through the story with a neutral expression, just taking in the information.

 _'Well at least now I know where the scar came from.'_ He thought to himself before writing out his response.

'Okay. As informative as this history lesson is, I think we have gotten off track.'

"Mr. Potter?"

'I still know nothing about your school, what classes are offered, or how I'm supposed to pay for it. I think you can imagine my aunt is not going to help.'

"Oh yes," Minerva said after reading the note, now remembering the reason she was there as well as the things she had brought. "This should prove helpful, information wise." She said handing over the orientation packet.

"And as for tuition," Here she took out the key the headmaster had given her. "Your parents left you a very sizable trust for your education. The Potter's were a fairly wealthy family. This is your vault key, it's what you use to withdraw money from Gringots the wizarding bank." She explained handing over the key as well.

Harry was a bit surprised at this. He had never believed any of the stories his relatives had told him about his parents, but he did believe that they were dead or if not that, then he would never see them. He had stopped thinking about them years ago. When he was very little he used to imagine what they would be like, but over time he had come to the conclusion that imagining about people that he had (rare as it was for him) no memory of, and who he would never meet was a waste of time. Thinking about them wouldn't bring them back to him, or make his problems disappear, so he had made peace with the fact that he had no parents.

Now learning that they had made plans for him and his education, it was like having a small bit of proof that they cared, it was nice.

He gingerly placed the key into his bag and opened the orientation packet and pulled out three booklets. The first 'So Magic Is Real', the second 'The Wizarding World Around You' and the last 'Hogwarts: A New World School'. He also pulled out a list of school supplies and a train ticket.

Harry opened the first book, 'So Magic Is Real; which seemed to be more of a panflit, and started to read, it only took about five minutes to finish. It mainly seemed to go over something called, accidental magic, which mostly involved things breaking, floating or disappearing. Harry noticed that, a strange connection to water, was not on the list of things that normally happened around or too a growing wizard or witch.

 _'Okay, looks like I might have to do some research on this later'._ He thought to himself as he put down the first book and picked up the next one.

It only took him about fifteen minutes to read through the other two books. 'The Wizarding World Around You' was like a tourist guide book, it talked about how to find a place called Diagon Alley, apparently it was a wizarding shopping district. The book gave descriptions about the shops that students would have to go to, and less detailed descriptions about a few other shops and stores.

 _'Hum, looks like I'm not going to be able to just treat this like a school that wants me to transfer to another country. They want me to transfer worlds.'_

However it was when he was reading the last book did he start to have doubts.

The book 'Hogwarts: A New World School' gave a few brief details about the school's history and facts about the classes he would be taking as a first year. Harry thought that charms, potions and DADA seemed like interesting classes. But it wasn't the classes that were offered that had him doubting the school, it was the classes that weren't.

He seen that they didn't offer any math, science or english classes and he doubted they taught any history that he could use outside the magical world. Truthfully he himself didn't really need to worry about them, he already had his A-levels in history and science and he could self-study the other two, he had done so before. But there were three classes he wasn't seeing that he didn't want to give up.

He picked up his pencil and wrote out a question to the Professor who had been commentating along with what he read.

'Does your school offer any music, dance or art classes?'

"We do offer a music class that can be chosen as an elective class in third year. Although I will admit it is not a very popular class, because there are no OWLS or NEWTS, there are no specific jobs one can obtain taking that class. As for dance and art I'm afraid we do not offer either as a class."

The minute she finish her sentence she could almost see his interest in Hogwarts diminish. Thinking it was because the thought that a class he would want to take would only be a hindrance to him in the future, she attempted to reassure him.

"Mr. Potter I can assure you that there are other classes that you can take as an elective, and you are allowed to take more than one. There have been plenty of people that have chosen music as there elective and have been able to go on to find work in the future."

Harry scrunched his eyebrows at her response. It wasn't his future he was worried about. He wanted to take those classes because they were things he loved to do.

Honestly he had never given any solid thought on what he wanted to do in the future, he had a few ideas but nothing he was dead set on doing. He had thought he would eventually go to an Art College, preferably one out of the country away from the Dursleys, but beyond that he didn't know. Academically he could be anything from a doctor, to a lawyer, to a CEO if he put his mind to it. But he had wanted to do something with art, though just what it was, he wasn't sure. He had thought about performing and becoming a professional musician or concert violinist or pianist or any of the other instruments he played. He had thought of putting all his efforts in dance and becoming a dancer for The Royal Ballet or on Broadway. Becoming an artist had been what almost everyone who had seen his art work, more specifically his paintings, believed he would be and he could see himself doing that. He had even thought about just becoming a wandering nomad, and traveling the world painting rare and exotic sights. Though one thing he had always wanted to do was make a painting that would be displayed in The Louvre.

Even though none of his plans for the future, aside from College and being immortalized in The Louvre, were set in stone he didn't just want to give up on them. And he didn't want to just leave Faciendo, he had been very proud of what he had achieved by getting into his school and what he had done by keeping his spot in it. Getting into Faciendo wasn't easy, especially the way he did it, but it seemed all it took to get into Hogwarts was having magic.

He was a bit at a loss on what he was going to do now. He was curious as to what he could learn at this magical school, and in this other world. But he didn't want to give up on everything else in his life to sate his curiosity.

His contemplation must have shown on his face.

"Is something the matter, Mr. Potter?" Professor McGonagall asked.

Shaking his head he wrote. 'No I'm just not sure what to do right now.'

"Well, right now if you are ready we could go and get your school supplies." She offered, misunderstanding his dilemma.

Harry shot her a confused look. 'No Professor. I meant I'm not sure if I should go to your school or not.'

Minerva was more than a bit shocked at this. She knew he was unaware of the wizarding world but she had thought that with proof of its existence he would be thrilled to come. Most muggleborn children were ecstatic when they found out they were a witch or wizard and couldn't wait to get to school. If they were unsure of anything it was being away from their families but she dident think that was the case now. Normally it was muggle parents who had a problem with their children going off to Hogwarts. She didn't consider it a possibility that he might not want to come to Hogwarts. Then a thought occurred to her.

"Mr. Potter if you're worried about your aunt trying to stop you then you have nothing to worry about..." She started but he shook his head and started writing again.

'No it's not that. I have invested a lot of time into my current school.' He stopped writing to point at a poster of the academy on the wall of the office. 'And I'm not sure if I want to give up on everything I have and know about here to attend a school in a world I know next to nothing about. But magic does hold a lot of curiosity and the idea of learning more about it does seem cool to. So again, I'm not really sure what to do right now.'

Minerva looked at the reply with a frown as she read and could see his reasoning behind it. The dilemma between going somewhere new and unknown or staying where you are with what you know and what's familiar.

She was happy that he hadn't completely dismissed Hogwarts all together and that he still had an interest in the magical world. But the reasoning behind him not wanting to come saddened her a bit, she had thought, like so many others, that the Boy-Who-Lived would be a Gryffindor. Though as she continue to spend time with the boy, and especially after reading his response for not wanting to come to Hogwarts, the likelihood of him ending up in her house seemed to be diminishing. Having doubts about acting because of a lack of information wasn't exactly something she seen among any of those in her house.

Harry meanwhile was thinking about his options, and he kept coming back to one thought , he needed more information.

'Professor, you said that you were going to take me to get my school supplies. That would be in Diagon Alley right?' He questioned

"Yes, that's correct. Will we be getting your things there?" She asked, keeping the hope out of her voice, the decision was his to make and it wasn't her place to presser him one way or the other.

She managed to keep the frown off her face when she seen him shake his head in the negative.

'No, however the first letter said I didn't have to send in my response until my birthday, 6 days from now on the 31st. I was wondering if I could go and see what your world is like firsthand and get some more... in-depth books before making my decision.'

Minerva was delighted at the suggestion, yes she could show him firsthand what the Wizarding World is like.

She nodded and stood from her seat. "Yes, I believe that is an excellent idea."

'I need to get permission from Ms. Setpanova first.' He wrote. 'And change my clothes.' he added looking down at himself; he hadn't changed from his dance clothes he had been practicing in.

"I'll go speak to your teacher." She told him. "Pleas meet me near the front entrance when you are ready to go."

* * *

Fifteen minutes later Harry came down and spotted Professor McGonagall by the entrance door and approached her.

His hair was now down out of the pony tail and covering the scar. He was dressed in a new pair of black leggings and the same black and white long sleeve baseball shirt he picked out that morning and a pair of white Timberland boots with his messenger bag over his shoulder.

The boots had been a Christmas present from Cyrille whom had gone off to a university in America the year before.

"Your teacher has been informed that we will be further discussing your admittance to Hogwarts, elsewhere. I told her that you would be back before the schools curfew. " She told him as they walked out the door.

Harry wondered what exactly she had told Ms. Setpanova they were doing.

They turned down an empty alleyway next to the dance studio and Professor McGonagall held out her arm to him.

"Please take my arm, we will be using a method of transportation called apparition."

He took her offered arm and with a crack they were gone leaving an empty alley behind.

* * *

 **A/N: Hey, so now the story is officially underway, and this chapter is a lot longer than i thoght it would be, there will still be littel snippets about Harrys past. In this chapter you seen a small bit of Harry's more aggressive and vindictive side. You'll see more of that later especially in what I have planned for Snape.** **Harrys also going to be alot more blasé about his parents, it's not that he dosent care he's just come to terms with the fact that they are dead and he never knew them.**

 **Okay bad news. How I've been writing the story is by typing it up at home (I don't have Internet at my house) and then going to the library to upload and edit it, but unfortunately my home computer had some kind of freakout and all but died on me. And I'm not expected to be able to get a new one until after the start of 2018 at the earliest.** **I go to the library twice a week so I will be able to keep typing it but it will take a mutch longer time. :( So Sorry :(**

 **Clarification: Dumbledore is completely ignorant of what's going on with Harry. He thinks that the fancy school he's going to is a Primary School. He has no idea how smart Harry is or that he has been off at boarding school for 4 years and hasn't actually seen the dursleys for almost 2 years.**

 **(1) 06. To The Fairies They Draw Near Part II - Loreena McKennitt (Music Inspired By Tinkerbell)**


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

 **I Do Not Own Harry Potter or there would have been a lot more Slash and the movies would have been rated R.**

 **There will be mentions and depictions of past child abuses as well as Male on Male homosexual relationships later in the story which may be a ways away (you have been warned...again)**

' _Thought'_

'Sign Language/Written '(Harry speech)

"Speech"

~Song

 **"Parseltongue"**

Minerva stepped through the floo from the Leaky Cauldron and into her office. She had just returned after taking Harry back to the summer school.

She walked out the door and down the corridors towards the headmasters' office.

He would want a report of what had happened, and she also had a few thing she wanted to talk with (scream at) him about.

Walking up to the gargoyle she said the password and went up the staircase. She knocked on the door then entered not even waiting for permission to do so.

"Hello Minerva, how did it go, was young Harry able to get his things alright?" The headmaster asked her from behind his desk, paying no mind to her sudden entrance.

"Albus, I warned you! I told you that they were the worst sort of muggles..." She started, before going on a tirade about all that she had observed about the family ten years ago.

The headmaster suspected this had been the rant she wanted to go on yesterday but had been too preoccupied to do so.

After about ten minutes she finally stopped yelling about the headmasters' decision to leave the boy at his aunt's house. She then gave her report of what had happened that day, from when she had gone to the Dursley's to the trip to Diagon Alley.

* * *

The day had gone pretty well. Minerva and Harry had walked around in Diagon Alley for about several hours and then gotten lunch before she escorted him back.

She had side-along apparated Harry to the same alley she had first arrived at outside the Leaky Cauldron and then entered the alley. He hadn't had the same look of wonder and awe on his face that most muggleborn students got when first entering the wizarding world. He looked more, curious and intrigued than awestruck and mystified.

She had led him first to the bank to withdraw funds, after she explained the denominations, and from there he had gone straight to the book store. He had spent the majority of his time at Flourish and Blotts picking up books to research the magical community. He had picked up books on a multitude of subjects; he had four on history, one on etiquette, two on culture, one on art and another on law and education.

He was intrigued with the concept of moving portraits that were basically sentient and the fact that it took an artist specialized in the craft to create them. He had been disappointed when she had told him aside from crafting portraits there weren't really any artistic based career choices.

He had also gotten as many books on himself, and the first war, that he could find after seeing, what looked like a children's fairy tale story book titled, 'The Adventures and Impossible Tales of Harry Potter.' He had also picked up a copy of 'The Tales of Beedle the Bard'

After leaving the bookstore Minerva had shown him around Diagon Alley showing him the different shops and giving information on each of them. Harry had gone back to Flourish and Blotts several times throughout the outing to get books each time something along the little 'tour' caught his curiosity. The Apothecary had him getting a few books on plants and potions, after the pet shop he got a large book about magical animals and a book on creatures and so on.

By the time they stopped for lunch Harry had gotten over twenty books and had already gotten through all five of the childrens books and had made it half way through the book 'The Rise and Fall Of You-Know-Who.' Over, lunch he had managed to read the rest of the book as well as finish the book on etiquette and one of the books on culture.

Harry had kept his nose in a book through lunch and for a second Minerva had, for a brief second, seen a first year Lily Evans. Once they were sitting and had nothing to say, Harry being too engrossed in his book to write out any questions,she took the time to get a real look at the boy. She now notice that he looked very, well, pretty looking for a boy. At first glance she had thought he looked like a replica of his father, only with longer hair, softer features, and his mother's eyes, however, as she kept looking at him she noticed that he didn't really have the same boyish look to his face James had. There was a resemblance to his father in his dark hair, straight nose and jawline, but there also seemed to be a delicate touch to his looks that James did not have.

 _'With his black hair and glasses, even if not the same hideous kind as his father, he looks similar to James. But without the glasses and with red hair, he would probably be a dead ringinger for Lily.'_ She had thought to herself.

Though he didn't look like a girl per se, it wouldn't be hard to believe if an onlooker was unsure of what his gender was. She was reminded of the ethereal beauty of the merpeopel that lived in the open ocean; they closely resembled the merpeopel of muggle Fairy-tale: the body of a human from the waist up and the tail of a fish from the waist down. In books they were described as having looks and beauty that transcend gender.

After lunch she took him back to his summer school and informed him that the owl that had been sent before would stick around to take back his reply when he reached a decision. He shook her hand and thanked her for taking him around before they parted ways.

* * *

"So," The headmaster started after his transfiguration professor finished her recap of the day. "we will not know of his decision until his birthday at the latest?" He asked, though it sounded more like a statement.

"Yes, he wished to have more of an idea of how the wizarding world worked before making his decision."

Dumbledore hummed in thought, bringing his hands together over his desk.

"Well, I'm sure he will make the right decision." He stated flippantly, though inside he was more than a bit surprised. He had been anticipating for Harry to be excited and overjoyed to come back to the magical world, the fact that he was having doubts was very ...unnerving. And then there was the other bit of info Minerva had brought to his attention...

"Now this inability to speak you spoke of, could you please elaborate for me?" He inquired

"At first I assumed he was sick or it was only some strange habit, but he...informed me that he was incapable of speech. Also, before we left to Diagon Alley I asked his teacher about it. She informed me that he has never spoken, even before he came to their school. Albus do you have any idea on why this could be?" The witch inquired herself.

"I regret to say that, I do not." He admitted with a small frown on his aged face.

* * *

Harry sat on his bed in the summer school with a pen and paper getting ready to write out his response.

He and the rest of his classmates had just finished with their performance earlier in the evening.

It had been a few days since he had gone to the alley with the professor. He had already finished the books and had gotten his information about the magical world. Though he now had even more questions.

He looked up to the painting he had finished before leaving for the Dursley's, for what felt like the thousandth time, then back to the open book on important historical figures of the magical world that was open on his bed.

Harry had painted the four people in the painting before individually during the times when his mind would "drift off" when working and he would make paintings of people and things he had never seen before. He hadn't "drifted off" when working on this painting specifically, he had wanted to paint them all together because he painted them individually before. In fact the four individual portraits of the two men and two women were all on display at The Gallery. Harry had never seen any of the people, he had thought that they were just random, generic, made-up people he painted but, apparently that wasn't the case. In his historical figures book, there were their portraits, they looked much older than he had painted them, but it was them; Helga Hufflepuff, Rowena Ravenclaw, Salazar Slytherin and Godric Gryffindor.

The founders of Hogwarts.

Harry had, of course, been shocked when he had first come across their pictures in his book and realized who he had painted. After all, he had never met or seen them, they had been dead for centuries, yet somehow he had painted the four most prominent people in magical Britain.

His eyes moved over to the raven haired male founder once again.

 _'What's your connection to me then?'_ He questioned to himself.

The book had noted Salazar Slytherin as the most cunning and ambitious of the founders. He had been of the opinion that only students of magical heritage should have been allowed to attend Hogwarts and had only allowed pureblood students in his house.

However, what had really caught Harry's interest was the talent that had earned him the name, 'Serpent-tongue'. Salazar Slytherin had been a parselmouth meaning, he had been able to speak in Parseltongue; the language of serpents. According to the book it was a very uncommon skill, and was always hereditary.

Harry's eyes had yet to leave the painting when he opened his mouth and a soft hissing sound came out.

 **"Are we family?"** He question the painting in what he now knew was the snakes' language, thinking back to when he discovered it.

* * *

*Flash Back*

Harry was in his second year at Faciendo and the eight year old was out near the woods that bordered the school.

He was working on a landscape painting for his art class, he and the rest of his class had been allowed to wander around the woods to find an area to paint. It was just before winter and the leaves had already started to change from green to orange and were littered across the forest floor and the woods had a beautiful autumn glow to it.

Harry stood alone just outside the line of trees on the far side of the campus. He was putting on the finishing touches on his painting; the painting showed the tree line of the forest and a naturally worn path that led into the forest.

When he took a step back, he heard someone mumbling.

 **"Fast little croaker, why could I not have found one of the large slow ones?"**

Harry perked up and looked around for the voice, he was sure he was alone out here, most of the other students had headed deeper into the forest and the teacher that followed him from class to class was still in the building.

 **"It** **couldn't** **have been a well behaved meal and got caught, no it had to hop away and make me chase it."** The voice continued talking.

Harry started to look around confused and a little freaked out. The person sounded very close but there was no one around. Harry had started walking a bit more into the forest and had just moved a low hanging branch when he seen it. There slithering on the ground was a small grass snake it looked to be about 3ft long and was dark green in color with a bit of yellow behind its head.

The snake turned around to look at him in what looked to be shock. The snake reared back and hissed out. **"Human!"**

Harry had been so surprised at the snakes use of, what he thought to be, English he had not moved until he seen the snake start hissing and striking out at him.

 **"GO! NOW! OR I WILL HURNT YOU!"** The snake hissed out.

Harry staggered back in shock at the display of the small snake and fell onto his back. He had started kicking out with his legs in an attempt to scurry back away from the angry serpent. His back hit a tree only a foot behind him as he kept on kicking his feet out. As his legs pushed at the soft earth, bits of dirt and pebbles started hurling at the snake and a second later the snake stopped hissing and seemed to fall over.

Harry managed to get back up to his feet and pressed his back against a tree that was behind him and looked over at the snake that was now limp, its mouth was open and its body twisted around and looked to be dead. Slowly he started to make his way over to the downed animal. Harry had started making progress with using his "sonar" out of the pool and could feel water around him even in living creatures and he could very easily tell the snake's heart was still beating.

 _'I'm not crazy, right!? I did just hear a snake talking?'_ He questioned himself in his head.

He picked up a long, thin stick and started trying to roll the snake over. He got the coiled animal onto its back, but it remained unresponsive, however, he could clearly feel its heart beating and blood still flowing. Then it hit him, he remembered reading that grass snakes would sometimes become completely limp and feign death. That, however did not explain why he heard it complaining and then threatening him.

He dropped the stick and took a few steps back and around a tree and decided to watch the little green serpent. After a short time the snake started to move again, it started to scent the air with its forked tongue.

 **"The human is still close."** It hissed out as it started to uncoil itself

Harry, still not taking his eyes off the snake, shocked, unconsciously opened his mouth and let out a hiss that to his ears sounded like English. **"It is talking!"** at the same time thinking it as well.

The snake turned to look at Harry, who was now peeking out from behind the tree. **"A Speaker?!"** The snake exclaimed slithering closer to the bespectacled boy.

 **"You are a speaker,"** the snake said in bewilderment. **"I have only ever heard stories of speakers, but never have I thought I would meet one."**

Harry was a little confused as to what the snake had said, _'Why is it calling me a speaker? I'm mute; I don't speak.'_ He thought to himself before his exclamation from moments earlier came back to him, his eyes widened and his jaw dropped.

 _'I spoke? I just spoke. I spoke.'_ he repeated in his head to himself, eyes still blown wide and still staring at the snake that was now sitting right in front of him. Finally gathering up his courage he opened his mouth and soft hissing english came out. **"I spoke."** He hissed aloud.

 **"I can talk?"** he hissed to himself again, almost in a trance, shocked that he was speaking, he looked up from the snake he was looking at but not really seeing any more in his little daze.

He opened his mouth to try and speak again, but this time when we tried no sound came out. His face slowly fell into a frown and he opened his mouth again and tried to speak but to no avail. He tried again several more times, just trying to make some sort of sound come out, with no luck. The closest thing to sound coming from him was the slight 'huff' as air rushed out his throat, the same thing that always happened when he tried talking, he lowered his head in disappointment.

 _'I should have known this wouldn't work.'_ He thought, remembering back to when he was younger and all the times he would try to talk, only for no sound to come out.

He was jeered from his morose thought at the feeling of scales against his leg. He looked down to see the snake had slithered up to him and was now wrapped around his ankle and looking up at him. He then realized the snake had been talking to him, or well more like it was talking at him.

 **"-very warm, it is nice. Are all speakers warm? Are there more of you?"** The little snake spoke excitedly, firing question after question.

 **"Did you come from the humans large stone nest? Are you full grown? You look much smaller than the other humans I have seen. Are they speakers too?"**

 _'Oh God! I forgot about it,'_ He thought to himself, looking down at the animal now babbling at him. _"o_ kay, _maybe i did talk. It looks like the snake heard me talking too."_

Harry raised his hands in a 'settle down' jester trying to get the small reptile to slow down, but the snake kept on going with the barrage of questions.

 **"If they are speakers too why do they never speak? Can you help me catch a** **croaker? Do you eat croakers? If we catch two I will let you have the second, one is normally enough for me."**

As it kept talking Harry started to hear the slight 'hiss' to the snakes speech. If Harry had to guess, he would say the snake's voice sounded male.

 _'How did I talk before?'_ He thought, before deciding to just try talking again, not really having any other ideas on what to do. Looking at the little snake he opened his mouth and, to his surprise, let out a hiss. Although to his ears, they sounded like words.

 **"H-Hold on."**

At his words the snake stopped his rambling and looked expectantly at a wide eyed Harry.

 **"I'm. N-not sure. W-what. Y-you're. Talking about."** His words seem to come out choppy, like he was trying to be gentle and delicate with the words he was using, afraid they might stop if he wasn't careful.

It felt and sounded strange to move his mouth and hear words come out, well it sounded strange for the words to be coming from his mouth and not a sound system. Sometimes he would be asked to fill the role of small children, because of his age, in plays and skits by students in the drama and theater department. Because he didn't speak they would play a recording of the lines and he would move his mouth along with it. It had taken a bit of time and practice for him to learn to mouth out real words and not just move his mouth.

 **"What's a s-speaker and h-how are you talking?"** He asked getting a bit better with the flow of words.

The snake tilted his head, reminding Harry of a confused puppy, before it spoke again.

 **"A speaker is one of you two leg** **s, humans, that can use the serpents language, I am a snake and already know how to speak. At least that is how the stories go."** The snake informed him.

" **Serpents language? I'm speaking another language?"** Harry questioned, to which the snake gave a nod of its head.

 **"But how? I'm learning French right now, but only how to read it and understand when it's spoken, not to speak it myself."**

Harry turned his head away and, tried to say _'I don't speak,'_ but no sound came out, again.

 **"I do not know. I was only told of how there were once human two legers that were able to speak like the serpents,"** The snake replied.

But Harry was only half listening, too preoccupied with the fact that he had stopped talking again.

 **"According to the older snakes, the last speaker to look upon a serpent and speak, vanished many seasons ago."**

That last bit, however, got Harrys' attention.

 _'Look_ _upon a serpent? Hum, maybe?'_ Harry pondered to himself before looking down at the little snake again and opened his mouth and letting out, what sounded like, words again.

 **"I see."** He replied, before looking away and trying to speak to testing his theory. Only this time no words came out, just like the times before.

He looked back to the snake once more and repeated what he had tried to say.

 **"How do speakers learn to speak in snake language, do you know?"** He questioned, at the same time proving his theory.

 _'So I have to be looking at him to talk, I wonder if it works on all snakes.'_

 **"Silly speaker, you do not learn the serpent tongue, one simply knows it."** The snake said with a slight coughing hissing sound that Harry thought might have been a chuckle.

 **"So if you know the snake language you just know it and if you don't, you don't?"** Harry asked, walking the short ways out of the woods back to his easel and started putting his paints away.

 **"Yes, I believe that is how it works."**

"Harry?"

Harry was about to say something else to the snake when a call from behind him caught his attention. Turning, he saw Mr. Burnet, the teacher that when with him from class to class, coming from the school art buildings back exit.

Mr. Burnet was one of the schools special needs teachers and had worked before with students that had difficulty with hearing.

 **"Sorry, I need you to stay hidden for a bit."** Harry hissed quickly before bending over and picking the, surprised snake up and slipping it into his school bag.

The man quickly jogged over to Harry and stopped in front of him. He was average height with brown eyes and hair that he parted neatly to the side.

"Harry, sorry I took a bit longer than expected." He apologized, before looking down at Harrys packed bag.

"Did you finish?" He asked and smiled at Harrys nod.

"Well, Ms. Brary said that the rest of the class would be used to finish your paintings, so I guess you're done for the day. Lucky you, looks like you get to start your weekend early." He said with a chuckle at the end.

"If you want I can take your painting to the art room." The man offered with a smile.

'Yes, if you don't mind, thank you.' Harry signed back with a smile of his own, then turned and quickly made his way back into the school.

He made his way back to his dorm, thankful that Cyrille was still in class.

The room was fairly big, large enough for two or three people too live in without feeling crammed together. The room was symmetrical in its furniture on each side. The room had a bed pushed against the wall in the far corners with a bedside table on the opposite side of the wall, the beds had drawers underneath them for clothes. On the wall between the beds was a large three part bay window with a cushioned window seat. At the foot of each bed stood a large light brown desk with an attached bookcase, against the wall in the opposite corner of the beds were simple two-door wardrobes. The walls were a pale cream color with dark navy carpeting on the floor, off to the left side was a door that led to their shared bathroom.

The bed on the right was made with the standard blue covers and pillow cases. The walls on that side of the room were covered in various paintings and sketches. The bookcase held books on a number of different things and subjects; from fictional novels to school text, the majority of them being on loan from the school library. The desk had a few different sketch books sitting around on it along with a variety of drawing and writing instruments.

The bed on the left was rumpled and unmade with dark gray sheets and a thick handmade quilt. The walls were covered with posters from bands and sports teams with one painting. The bookcase had a few books along with framed photos, CDs and cassette tapes and on the top shelf was a silver boombox. The desk had a few text books and notebooks, one of which was opened with what looked like an essay rough draft still being written.

Near the windows were two music stands. The one on the right had a small black case next to it that held Harry's violin and next to the one on the left, on a stand, was Cyrille's guitar.

Once he made sure that the door was locked, he took the snake out of his bag, and sat it down on his bed.

 **"I'm sorry I never asked, but what's your name? Oh, and are you a boy or a girl? You sound like a boy."** Harry asked.

The snake tilted its head before answering. **"I am a male, as for a name? I don't have one. Do you have a name?"**

Harry nodded slightly. **"Yes, I have a name but first I'll answer your other questions."** Harry said, getting onto the bed cross-legged and recalling the snakes question stream from earlier.

 **"If all speakers are human then they're probably all warm. I don't know if there are other speakers in the world, I didn't know I was one till today. Yes, I came from the 'large stone nest', it's called a school. It's a place for us, humans, to learn and it's where we are now. No, I'm not full grown, I'm only eight years old. I'm the youngest** **and the smallest** **person in the school. I don't know if any of the other humans you have seen are speakers too, but I don't think they are. And, yes, I can help you catch a 'croaker' if you want, I know there are normally a group of them near the fountain on the east side of the school. No, I've never eaten a croaker, but I know some people do like the taste of frog legs, but, like I said, I never had them."** Harry said, answering all the reptiles' previous questions.

He extended his hand and let the snake slither into his palm. **"My name is Harry, Harry Potter. If you want I can give you a name."** He offered the little snake.

 **"I would like that,"** The snake replied **"One of the older snakes was given a name when he encountered a human, the two legger called him, 'O'Shite!'"** The snake explained happily.

At hearing this Harry burst into silent laughter, imagining a person shocked reaction to seeing a snake, and the animal then thinking it had been named.

Once Harry had calmed down, he looked at the slightly bemused animal in his hand.

 **"Are you alright? Are you going to give me a name and help me catch a croaker now?"** The little snake asked.

 **"Yeah, I'm alright, just thinking of something funny. I'll take you out to look for food in a bit, first let's give you a name."** he suggested. He leaned down and looked at the snake intently.

 **"Hmm, well you are a really cool shade of green, so how about, Juniper?"** He asked

 **"Oh Yes! I like the sound of that."** The snake, now Juniper, exclaimed in joy.

 **"Now let's go and get you** **something to eat."** Harry said, lifting Juniper up and walking out the door.

*End Flash Back*

* * *

Harry had kept Juniper in his room for the rest of that weekend. Harry had offered to keep him in his room for as long as he liked, but the little snake started missing his home in the forest. Juniper did show Harry where in the forest, he could normally be found so that Harry could come visit him from time to time. As it turned out, Juniper made his home near one of the trails that students used for jogging, so Harry was able to visit him without having to trek aimlessly through the woods. Harry had also learned he could speak to other snakes, although the majority of the snakes in the forest weren't very interesting. They mostly only talked about being hungry and wishing the "food wouldn't hop away." There were a few like Juniper that liked to ask questions about humans but they were very few.

Juniper was very inquisitive and always had questions for Harry, the primary one being if Harry would help him find dinner, and always seemed happy to see him whenever Harry would find the time to visit. Juniper also became the model of some of Harry's paintings and sketches. Harry had just been happy to have someone to talk to, without the use of his hands. He still wasn't sure how that worked, but he had been able to figure out that he didn't need to be looking at a snake to speak, he only had to be thinking about a snake to speak in the serpents language.

Although now he knew how he was doing it; magic.

Before when he had first discovered his ability to speak to snakes he had thought it was his 'powers' but had dismissed the theory when he realized it had nothing to do with water and that he couldn't feel his 'power' activate whenever he spoke to Juniper. But he supposed his magic didn't always have to react to every magical event or ability.

Harry came out of his thoughts of his little reptilian friend and looked down at the book and blank paper.

 _'What should I do?_ ' He questioned himself. He pulled his hand down his face and let out a breath.

 _'If I go then maybe I can find out about this_ _parselmouth thing,'_ He thought to himself. _'I could also look into_ _the hydrokinesis.'_

He shook his head at his own thoughts.

 _'This is a choice about my schooling. If I go there, it should be to learn, not play Nancy Drew.'_ He chastised himself.

 _'I can probably buy the series now that I have access to my money. Huh, I wonder what the exchange rate is? NO! Focus!'_

He turned his attention back to his, yet to be started, letter and started to think.

It wouldn't be difficult to finish up his secondary school education on his own. He had had to keep himself occupied with art, dance and music practice, learning to use his 'powers' and recreational studying to keep from jumping ahead in years like he did in primary school. Even when trying to hold himself back, he still managed to jump over his history and science courses early, it would be very easy for him to self-study in the summer or during free time at Hogwarts, he knew.

But it wasn't his academic studies that had him hesitating from leaving his school, It was his artistic studies.

Though learning magic did hold appeal to him in general, it did not overshadow his love of the arts. It was through his music and art that he was noticed and admitted into Faciendo and away from his relatives, it's what had given him a new way to convey his feelings and thoughts.

But more than anything, art gave him; freedom. Not just freedom from his relatives, but freedom from, well life. There had always been this point, when he would be playing music or painting, when he would just...be, he would just exist in a beautiful moment before he had to come back to reality. When he could let go of what tied him to the earth and be free and would watch as he constructed a new collaboration of colors to form a lovely picture. Or when he closed his eyes and would listen to his music as it carried all of his thoughts and ideas away, leaving him to just listen and feel.

With dance he was given an escape from being a prodigy. He had had a bit of talent in it and a great deal of potential, but he had still had to put in hours upon hours of practice and dedication to get to the point he was at. He had enjoyed having something that he could keep on working on, something he had to push himself to keep growing and developing in.

Harry let out a breath and looked down at the paper, thinking over his opinion.

He continued to think for a half hour before he finally made up his mind. With one last quick look over to the painting, he put his pen to the paper and started to write out his reply.

* * *

 **A/N: Hay its been a very long time.**

 **So I just wanted to get at least one new chapter out before this story's first birthday(I** **failed but better late than never right?)** **. It's not much, but at least you know the story isn't dead. I didn't think I'd be taking a nearly yearlong hiatus, but I've had some set backs in my real life that have taken my attention away and I'm still working a lot of stuff out.**

 **Sorry I still don't have a computer yet (I did this on my phone and it was not easy, I have know idea how some people can write solely on their phones, so hopefully there aren't too many typos) and so will once again be going an unknown amount of time before updating again but know I never forgot about this story though. So sorry and hopefully I'll be back soon. And thanks for all the reviews, follows and favorites.**


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